Harry Potter and the Heir to the Dark Lord
by Aaron Decart
Summary: My version of the 7th book. School opens although is optional and the group returns. There's a new teacher, what is her connection to the exPotions Master...and to Remus? And just who is the Heir to the Dark Lord?
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not affiliated with JK in any way. This story is not in any way affiliated with the Harry Potter franchise.

**Chapter 1: The Lull**

_ "Then why didn't you stop me?" Draco asked, his face so pale and drawn he hardly seemed human, to Harry he seemed very small, very young and very dead. _

_ "I tried, Draco." Professor Dumbledore managed. "Professor Snape has been keeping watch over you on my orders--" _

_ "He hasn't been doing your orders, he promised my mother--" Draco looked almost ghostly against the blackness of the night, the shining green skull hanging in the air behind them._

_ "Of course that is what he would tell you, Draco, but--" Dumbledore started. _

_ "He's a double-agent, you stupid old man, he isn't working for you, you just think he is!" Draco cried triumphantly, Harry wondered if he was trying to convince Dumbledore or himself. He looked so young... _

_ "We must agree to differ on that, Draco. It so happens that I trust Professor Snape--" Dumbledore, on the other hand, seemed ancient, old, gray and dying. His eyes were wide, painful, and pleading._

_ Severus, imposing and black seemed larger then life, taking the stage of the dreamscape, his demeanor seeming to fill the whole world with a black dread. "We've got a problem, Snape," Amycus said, his eyes and wand directed on their prey. "The boy doesn't seem able--" _

_ "Severus--" Dumbledore's voice was pleading, it stilled Harry's insides to hear such a powerful man, his mentor, his hero, sound so very vulnerable. Draco cowed in the darkness, trembling. _

_ Snape didn't respond, he just cut a path over to Dumbledore's crumpled body, his sharp, black, empty eyes seeming to look right through him. As he passed all the other occupants of the Astronomy tower pulled away, fear rippling through them, fear and respect for Severus' impossibly imposing visage. None of them spoke, they just watched him, hunger and anticipation in their eyes, even Fenir seemed almost docile, like a dog at Snape's heel. _

_ The ex-Potions Master stared at Dumbledore, his eyes probing the old wizard's mind, his face was ripe with hatred and disgust, he looked at Dumbledore as though he were a stray and scraggly dog, something unwanted, repulsive. "Severus...please..." Dumbledore was saying._

_ Snape raised his wand, pointing it directly at Dumbledore, all of the hatred drained, his face a stony mask of nothingness. "Avada Kedavara!" He roared. Green light spewed from the end of his wand, hitting Dumbledore squarely in the chest. Harry couldn't scream, couldn't breathe, he just watched, terror gripping his heart, as Dumbledore was thrown into the air with the power of the curse. He hung there, his head snapped to face Harry. _

_ "You could've stopped this." He hissed. _

_ And then he plummeted over the edge and downwards, out of Harry's sight._

Harry woke up with a start, soaked in cold sweat. For a moment he didn't know where he was, the image of Dumbledore's accusing face hanging in front of his eyes. He blinked furiously, focused.

He was in his bedroom at Number 4 Privet Drive for the last time. He would leave today to the Weasleys and never return here ever again. The Dursleys were overjoyed. They seemed to very much take to the idea of never having to deal with Harry's "magical mumbo-jumbo" anymore. They'd ordered him not to write or to call. _Like I would._ Harry thought hatefully.

Knowing that sleep wouldn't return Harry got out of bed and moved to the window, sitting on the sill and staring out at the black sky. He remembered Dumbledore walking up the street last summer to fetch him and old tears seared his eyes. _No_. He thought angrily. He wouldn't cry anymore. The time for tears was over. He was seventeen, he was an adult and he didn't want to mourn a memory anymore. There were more important things to think about. Like the Horocruxes. Voldemort had six of them; so far Harry and Dumbledore had only destroyed two: the diary and the Riddle's ring. That left four unaccounted for. Dumbledore had said that he believed Voldemort would chose one item from each of the Hogwarts Houses: Gryffindore, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. But what? There had to be a lot of relics from the founders of the house, how could Harry know where to start? Whatever had been in the basin that Dumbledore had drunk out of was relatively small. And who was R.A.B? _And _why had he stolen one of Voldemort's horocruxes? If he knew where it was then he was probably a Death Eater. But why would a Death Eater take one of his master's most precious items? Had he destroyed it? What if he'd gotten the other three?

All of these questions had been whirling around Harry's mind all summer and he couldn't seem to find an answer for any of them. Finally he'd vowed to stop thinking about it, realizing that it was driving him crazy. But the questions wouldn't comply. They just kept coming. And with each question there were twenty more that popped up. And none of them answered. _Dumbledore would know what to do_. Harry thought darkly. _He always knew what to do_.

He pushed Dumbledore from his thoughts and stood up, stretching, and looking at the clock. It was nearly 4.30 a.m., that meant that he would be leaving the Dursleys in about two hours, or whenever Mr. Weasley managed to get here to pick him up, which meant that no time was actually promising.

Harry dressed in the dark, taking notice that his pants were, again, too short for him. He'd grown another two inches over the summer, putting him at 5'9'' even. He was inching up on Ron day by day. He smiled to himself, imagining looking down at the top of Ron's head instead of the other way around.

But thinking about Ron wasn't exactly the most pleasant thing either. He knew that he should be grateful to his friends who were there to help him--but how could they? They hadn't seen the things that he'd seen. They didn't watch Severus Snape murder Dumbledore all the while unable to do anything but stand and look. They hadn't felt the inner helplessness of it all. Harry's belief that the 'good guys' would eventually win was terribly shaken that night. Dumbledore had been their leader, their fearless leader, and now he was gone. The Order had elected McGonagall to resume Dumbledore's job, but it didn't feel the same. She wasn't as sharp as he was, nor did she have a knack for saying the right things at the right time. Morale was at an all time low and Harry wondered if the Order of the Phoenix would even survive this crushing loss. _I wonder if any of us will._ Harry thought darkly.

When he was dressed he did one last sweep of the room to make sure that he had all of his things safely in his trunk before leaving it forever and descending the stairs, his trunk bumping along behind him magically. After his 17th birthday the decree for underage wizards no longer applied to him and he'd taken full opportunity to terrorize the Dursleys like they'd never been terrorized before. He'd done very little without the use of his wand. Granted, he'd only had a week to do it in, but it was satisfying to see their horror-stricken faces every time he whipped the wand around.

When he made it to the kitchen he found that he was not alone. Aunt Petunia sat at the table, a cup of tea in her hands, but she didn't look like she was drinking it. Instead she just sat there, still and quiet, staring into the liquid. "Uh, are you okay?" he asked awkwardly.

Petunia gave a start and almost dropped her cup, looking up at him in surprise. "Oh, Harry--I--I didn't hear you--what are you doing up?" She asked angrily.

"What's it mean to you?" Harry shot back.

She stood up, walking over to the sink and pouring out the cold tea, rinsing out the cup and replacing it in its rightful place. Crossing her arms she turned to face him. "I suppose you're leaving, then?" she asked.

"S'pose." Harry responded.

"Then you'll be wanting to know the story." She said evenly, even though her hands were shaking.

"Story?" Harry asked, only mildly interested, half expecting her to start telling him all about Mrs. Number 2's daughter who was home from college and had a Mohawk.

"About Albus Dumblydore." Petunia clarified.

Harry gave a start, looking at her in surprise. "What do you know about that?" he asked.

"I know he's dead." She sniffed, holding her head up. "And if you ask me--good riddance. He was a pesky old man." Her jaw tightened.

"Don't talk about him like that!" Harry exclaimed, stabbing his wand in the direction of her face.

She drew back instinctively. "But that doesn't mean I'm glad." She said hurriedly, Harry didn't know if it was out of fear or because she wanted to say it before he could turn around and leave. "He--he was nosy and assuming--"

"He sounds just like you--why weren't you best pals?" Harry growled.

"But he took care of us." Petunia finished, holding her head up again.

"Took care of--?" Harry was confused.

"Of us. Of this family. When Voldemort couldn't find Lilly he started looking for me." She told him, her eyes suddenly dull, not at all like Harry was used to seeing them. "And he came here--_here_!" she exclaimed. "He knocked on the door, Vernon opened it and--" Petunia gave an involuntary shiver.

"And what?" Harry pushed.

"And he tried to kill him!" Petunia seemed very close to tears. "Dudley was only a baby then, he was sitting in the living room with me and he started wailing, but no matter what that terrible, terrible man did he couldn't hurt us!"

"Dumbledore..."

"He put some sort of--protection around the house. He made it so that _he_ couldn't come in. Couldn't hurt us while we were inside. He found Lily before he could come back and get me when I wasn't home. But Dumblydore never removed the protection. It's why he dumped you here. In his letter he told me that if we ever mistreated you, if we refused you refuge here, he would take down the protection and that horrible man could come back and hurt Dudley." She shivered again.

"Remember my last..." Harry remembered the howler that had been received by Petunia last year. Dumbledore had made her allow Harry to stay; now it made sense. "That's why you didn't kick me out!"

"Of course." Petunia said, tight-lipped. "It's the only reason we didn't give you to an orphanage the second you landed on our doorstep. As long as you were here then the house was safe. If you ever left--then who knows what _he _might do to us? He isn't even _human_."

"Well now that I'm going--what are you going to do?" Harry asked. "The protection is probably going to end because I can't call this place 'home' anymore." He remembered Dumbledore's words.

Petunia flinched. "I know." She said softly. "That's why you've got to win."

"Win?" Harry asked.

"The war. That's why you have to win. You have to kill him or else he'll come here and he'll kill us all." She clarified. "I know that's not much incentive, you probably hate us--"

"Probably?" Harry repeated. "You made my life _hell_. You hated me! My parents died and I could never call you any sort of mum, I might as well have been raised in an orphanage! In fact--it would've probably been better there! You were terrible to me, the lot of you! You never once cared before whether I lived or died, so why should I care if you die?"

"Because you're a good person." Petunia spat out, looking as though that'd hurt. "Because we won't be the only ones to die if you lose. Dumblydore is just the first. I remember when _he _was in charge last time, before he--disappeared. I remember what _fear _there was in your kind."

"How would _you _know?" Harry asked."Harry--no matter how much I hate your kind--you're everywhere. The whole _country _knew something was happening--they just never suspected. An entire subculture just seemed to shut down overnight. Fearful. Unexplained events, unexplained deaths, _impossible _deaths, Harry. They were in the regular newspapers too. Something was happening, we knew it. _I _knew it, Lily didn't have to tell me." She shook her head. "I hated her for bringing him here. If it weren't for her and her _precious _James, we wouldn't've been put in this position to start with. Everything would've stayed normal. Simple. But she had to go and get herself involved because she was an insufferable do-gooder. She and your father. And they brought all of their troubles to my doorstep wrapped in a blanket." She looked hatefully down at Harry. "And now they're gone."

"Yea." Harry said darkly. He didn't know what he expected from her. A warm goodbye? No. She wouldn't give him that. If Uncle Vernon or Dudley were awake they would give him a warm goodbye all the way to the doorstep--but not Aunt Petunia. She would be cold up until the end. "Well--s'long." He told her.

"Goodbye, Harry Potter." Petunia said, walking around him and starting up the stairs before she paused. "Don't let him get us." She said quietly, and then continued up into the darkness.

Harry stared at where she'd been for a long time before walking to the door and pulling it open. The cool morning air assaulted his senses as he stepped out on the dew-wet stoop and sat down, his trunk behind him. He watched the sun as it peeked over the horizon, felt the first inklings of what would be a warm day on his arms and blinked in the sudden brightness.

He tried not to think about anything much. He found that if he kept his mind blank enough then it didn't hurt so much. If he didn't think about anything then he wouldn't have to think about Dumbledore or Voldemort or Snape or a million other painful things. He could just pretend that he was just like every other seventeen year old boy going over to his friend's for the remainder of the summer. He could pretend that Voldemort wasn't ripping a path through his world, that things weren't getting desperate, that he, Harry, didn't have to do something before it was too late, that he wasn't the only one who could. Instead, he could just be normal. He could just be seventeen. He might even think about Ginny or wonder who would win the Quidditch World Cup. He could think about whether or not the school would open, but that lead back to Dumbledore. No. He could think about Ginny. That was safe. Nice, safe Ginny. And he could hate her for it.


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter. I am in no way affiliated with JK nor any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

**Chapter 2: Who's on Second? **

"Oy, Harry!" Ron's voice broke Harry's dozing. The boy's head shot up, his wand gripped in his other. He saw Ron's red hair fly up towards him before registering the rest of his best friend. "What're you doing outside?" he asked. "It's _raining_!"

And indeed it was. It must've started drizzling once Harry had fallen asleep, his clothes were soaked clean through and Harry shivered in the cool morning air. "Thanks for telling me." Harry grunted, getting to his feet and greeting his friend.

"What do you think you're doing outside in the dark?" Mr. Weasley's stern voice came. "And asleep? You-Know-Who could be anywhere!"

_You don't know the half of it._ Harry thought dismally about what Aunt Petunia had told him. "Yea, I guess I was more tired then I thought I was." Harry mumbled.

"Hello, Harry." Lupin's voice came. Harry smiled at his old professor who looked as tired and haggard as ever. He noticed Tonks leaning against the car behind them, she smiled and waved. The werewolf leaned down, taking one side of Harry's trunk, Mr. Weasley took the other.

Ron clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "We're going back home for a bit before we go to the Manner." Ron told him.

"The Manner?" Harry repeated. "Are we sure that's such a good idea?"

"Yea, a whole bunch of 'em checked it out top to bottom. It looks like there's nothing to worry about. Your claim to it stood up." Ron shrugged. "I don't really know the specifics but," he shrugged.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked.

"She's due at the Burrow soon, Ginny's real excited..." Ron trailed off and glanced over at his friend. "She's been asking about you, Ginny has." Harry didn't reply, remembering all-too-vividly his experience with the youngest Weasley. Being with her had been some of the best days of his life--but he knew that he couldn't afford them now. "Well?" Ron prompted.

"Well what?" Harry asked."Aren't you going to ask how she's doing?" Ron asked, flushing a little.

"Oh, yea." Harry nodded. "How is she?"

"Heartbroken." Ron replied bluntly. "She gets why you broke up with her--but it doesn't mean that she likes it. Look, Harry, I understand there's a war on--but that doesn't mean that you can't be a little happy."

"Yes it does." Harry said softly, thanking every god he knew when Tonks interrupted their conversation.

Giddy and purple-haired she bounded up, hugging Harry tightly. "How you doing?" she asked with a brilliant smile.

"Alright, you?" Harry asked.

"Pretty good." She cast a glance towards Lupin who was helping Shacklebolt load the trunk into the car. Harry noticed that Mad Eye was sitting in the front, eyeing the whole production.

"How'd you get the car?" Harry asked.

"How'd we get the car?" Tonks exclaimed. "Are you kidding? Now that Voldemort's really back the Ministry is willing to do _anything _for you again, Harry! I'm pretty sure if we'd asked for an armada of flying carpets they'd run right off to Arabia and get them!"

"Mmm." Harry said grimly.

"Yea, I know, it's got to get a little old, watching them bounce back and forth with you, but hey, when you're on their good side you've got to milk it for what it's worth!" Tonks winked and walked over to Lupin who was shutting the door and laying a hand on his shoulder, smiling.

Harry noticed that Lupin still looked uncomfortable around her, he had to wonder if things weren't going as well as Tonks thought they were. He leaned over towards Ron but he waved him off. "Yea, he's been like that all summer. I think she wants something more then what he's willing to give her." He shook his head. "And he's been locking himself up in his room a lot lately, looking at something in a trunk he keeps under his bed. All I know is that she doesn't like it much." He shook his head. "Fred n' George've got a pool going for how long it'll last before he just gets tired of her and leaves."

"C'mon, lets get going!" Moody called. "We haven't got the best cover, loly gagging out here in the open!"

Ron rolled his eyes and got into the car, Harry looked back up at Number 4 Privet Drive. Lupin clasped his shoulder reassuringly. "I know you're not going to miss this place--but still--a lot of memories live here." He said quietly.

"Yea." Harry replied vaguely. "I guess they do."

And with that he turned around and got into the car next to Ron. As they pulled away Harry glanced back for one more look, the last look he would ever have of this place.

And he was glad.

III

Voldemort sat in a wing-backed chair, his fingers steepled, looking into dark flames of a fireplace, all in all very ominous. He was deep in thought. His plan was slowly falling into place. The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to make sense. And now that the Order had lost their Fearless Leader he was sure that the pieces, for them, were falling apart. He smiled in a self-satisfied sort of way. He was winning.

"You wanted to see me?" his heir entered, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

He stood, smiling and bowing graciously. "Have a seat." he indicated the floor beneath his chair.

The Heir of Voldemort kneeled at his feet, looking up at him, face painted with a disinterested and absolutely self-assured look. "Is there something that you want me to do?"

"Indeed." Voldemort replied. "I want you to get close to Harry Potter this year. Very close. I want him to trust you implicitly in all things, do you understand?"

"Why?" The Heir asked curiously. "He's a rather undisciplined boy, I'd rather not even try. It is disturbing how inefficient he is, and he the boy who once defeated you."

Were it anyone else Voldemort would've killed them for saying such a thing. However, for his Heir, he made a rare exception. "Even so." the Dark Lord drawled. "He is nothing without his friends, you understand. He cannot stand alone, the middle cannot hold."

"I understand." The Heir nodded slowly.

"Good." Voldemort held out a hand to his Heir, who took it and stood. They moved over to the fire, Voldemort standing a little behind his Heir, looking over the shoulder at the flames. "Look." he pointed.

The Heir squinted, barely making out the image of a woman. "Who is she?"

"She is a problem." the Dark Lord replied.

"She will be a definite problem. The raid on the Weasley home tonight will be unsuccessful because of her. She is more powerful then anyone on the Order. I once thought I was rid of her, but I fear that was subterfuge."

"She outwitted you." the Heir said blandly.

Voldemort tensed. "Yes." he admitted. "She has outwitted me. But now I have the upper hand. She does not know that I have this knowledge."

"Then you are going to send more men on the raid." the Heir reasoned.

"No." Voldemort replied. "The raid will go as planned. I wish to see how my Death Eaters stand up to a legend."

"What is her name?" the Heir looked up at the Dark Lord.

"No one knows. No one--but me." he smiled.

III

The Burrow was a veritable beehive of movement. People buzzing around like bees doing this or that. Harry got jostled four times before he even made it through the front door. It looked as though the Weasley Home had been made the temporary headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. A couple of people waved his way before going back to what they were doing, a pretty young woman plowed right into him. "Oh, Christ, I'm sorry." She said, pulling him back to his feet. "Ah, Potter?" she raised her eyebrows. "Nice to finally meet you. My name is Melony Meloy." She shook his hand and gave him a broad smile. "I'll see you around!" and with that she was off.

"What's all the rush about?" Harry asked Ron.

"You know--I don't know." Ron said, furrowing his brow. "People are always running around here--but they never seem to be going anywhere. Nothing big has happened all summer. Its like after what happened--" He glanced at Harry. "You know, after _that_, You-Know-Who just took a break." He shrugged. "Makes people nervous. _They _think he's planning something big."

"Of course he's planning something." Moody growled, his magical eye floating around in his skull but his regular one fixed on Ron. "He doesn't stop. He doesn't take breaks. He's got everything to lose--do you think he'd go on vacation?" he raised his eyebrows. "No. He's got something up his sleeve." And with that Moody disappeared into the bustling people.

"He's _always _on like that!" Ron exclaimed. "Mum's about ready to throttle him, he's always talking about the 'big plan,' whatever _that _is." He rolled his eyes.

Harry didn't want to say it, because Ron was obviously nervous as it was, but Moody was probably right. Voldemort wasn't about to just 'take a vacation,' if there hadn't been any word then it was obvious _something _was going on.


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, I am in no way affiliated with JK nor the Harry Potter franchise.

**Chapter 3: Memories...**

Remus ducked into the tiny room that he shared with Tonks, it was barely more then a closet, but they had to make do. He locked the door behind him, walked over to the tiny double bed and sat down on it. It groaned under his slight weight, he leaned over, reaching under the bed to the far corner next to the wall, finding a small box.

He set it on his lap, it was a cigar box from sixteen years past. A swell of emotion rose inside of him, he'd found himself going through this more and more lately. He didn't know why but four months ago he'd had the sudden urge to pull it out of storage.

Inside there were several photographs and other various odds and ends. He pulled out a small glass dragon, it looked up at him, blinking sleepy eyes, before nipping at his fingers. He set it down next to him, retrieving an ornate golden armlet studded in ruby. He smiled, running his fingers over the well-worn ridges.

His hand paused over one of the pictures, written on the back was _To my Remmy, don't worry, I'll write,--Love, Jack _in very messy, scratchy handwriting. He turned the photograph over, a girl of seventeen and a boy of eighteen waved up at him. He'd changed so much in almost sixteen years that he hardly recognized himself in the cheerful, if tired, youth. The girl was beautiful, she had her arms around young Remus' neck, kissing him on the cheek repeatedly until he pushed her away. She crossed her arms and pretended to be mad at him until he slung his arms around her shoulders, resting his chin in the crook of her neck. They smiled up at Remus and waved.

He couldn't believe she'd died only five years after the picture was taken.

III

_Nearly Four Months Ago..._

The first thing that she became aware of was a soothing, warm feeling, she felt like she was floating in a warm ocean somewhere. She sighed, but realized she couldn't do so because her windpipe seemed to be obstructed by something. Spasms tightened her chest, she realized she was choking! She was drowning! She was in an ocean and she'd just breathed in a lungful of water. She struggled, her hands finding glass walls on either side of her. She started to panic, bucking and writhing, finding that she was in fact _cased _in glass! Oh god--she was going to die!

Hands grabbed her shoulders, pulling her upwards. She broke the surface and began to cough; leaning over the edge of her prison and vomiting whatever it was she'd breathed. It certainly wasn't ocean water; it was more sweet then salty. But at the moment she wasn't thinking about that. All she was thinking was--_air_!

"_Breathe_." His voice echoed through her mind, it was concerned, warm. She'd heard that voice so few times in her life but she knew it right away. She gasped inwards, still coughing up the sugar water, it stung her tongue and lips.

She tried to open her eyes but found that she couldn't seem to tear her eyelids away from the bottom lid. She panicked again, clawing at her eyes. Those hands grabbed her wrists, pulling them away. A second set of hands grabbed her around the shoulders, a third around the waist. Before she could do anything about it she was lifted up and set on a cold surface. "Tie down her hands." A woman's voice came. "She can't think straight with her brain being shut off for all those years."

Jack felt restraints appear around her wrists and ankles. She strained, screaming, her voice sounded foreign to her, it cracked. Suddenly she was immobile, she could breathe but not much else. Something was put on her eyelids, a warm liquid. She felt the gummy substance holding her eyes shut dissolve. She opened them slowly, but closed them immediately, the light was so bright that it caused pain to shoot through her head. She tried to cry out but couldn't manage it. "Turn the lights down." The familiar voice came. "You can open your eyes now, Jacquolyn." He said gently.

She opened her eyes tentatively, finding that the lights were indeed all but out. The light no longer hurt her, but she found it hard to see, her vision was blurry. She blinked repeatedly, feeling the spell of immobility ease away and the restraints recede. She brought her hands up to her face, rubbing at her eyes, she felt sticky, gross. She sourly wanted a shower. She kept blinking until the world around her began to come into focus.

The first thing she saw was Dumbledore's face. He was smiling down at her, his hand on her shoulder. "Hello." He said pleasantly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Hardly." She replied, her memories returning to her. "You could've told me that it was going to be an unpleasant wake-up call." She said crossly, sitting up slowly, her muscles groaning in protest. They hadn't been used in-- "How long have I been asleep?" She asked.

"Sixteen years." Dumbledore replied.

"Sixteen--" she breathed, shocked. She'd expected two, five, seven maybe, but sixteen? The two nurses came into view; they were staring at her, looks of shock and horror on their faces. They obviously didn't see someone being resuscitated after sixteen years of ageless slumber before. A dark thought entered her mind, a weight in her stomach beginning to strain. "Is he back?" She asked quietly.

"Yes, he's back." Dumbledore replied.

"How bad is it?" She threw her legs over the side of the table.

"No, no, Ms. Avvor, you can't walk so soon! Your muscles have atrophied--" One of the nurses rushed forward.

"No they haven't." She put one foot on the floor, drew it back, it was cold. She bit back her reaction and put both feet down, standing up, her legs shaking beneath her. They buckled and she grabbed hold of the table. The two nurses grabbed her and tried to put her back on its surface. She shook them off and succeeded in standing again, taking an experimental step. "Like riding a bike." She murmured under her breath. "You haven't answered me, Albus, how bad is it?" She looked up at the old man.

"It's bad, my dear. It's very bad." He replied darkly.

III

_Present _

Harry walked out the back door of the Burrow out onto the grass, looking at the woods behind it. He had a headache from all of the chaos inside; he'd needed some air, able to loose Ron in talking to his brother, Bill, and Shacklebolt about a band he'd just recently started listening to, an old band from almost twenty years ago named the Reprobates. Apparently Shacklebolt had heard of them but Bill hadn't.

He walked across the scrubby back yard, jumping the hedges and walking out into the clearing between the fence and the woods. "What're you doing back here?" Ginny's voice surprised him, he spun around, suddenly assaulted with her face, her beautiful face. Her long, red hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, she wore a red, striped t-shirt and a pair of Muggle Jeans, her hands pushed in her pockets. She'd developed some more curves over the Summer Holiday; sixteen looked very good on her. Her freckles were fading, leaving her with a creamy, white complexion and she wore a sad, but kind smile.

"I couldn't stand all of the noise inside." Harry confessed, running a hand through his fly-away hair and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose nervously. He'd thought about Ginny a good few times over the summer, but he hadn't really decided what he wanted to say to her should this meeting happen--and it was inevitable.

"I know what you mean." Ginny perched on the fence, looking over at her ex. "How are you, Harry?" She asked, concerned. She cocked her head, smooth strands of hair slipping into her eyes in a very attractive way.

"Alright, s'pose." Harry answered blandly.

"Do you think they're going to open the school?" Ginny asked, obviously trying to make small talk.

"S'pose." He repeated.

"Harry, why won't you talk to me?" Ginny asked, Harry jumped when her hand touched his shoulder. He'd been so lost in thought staring out at the forest and trying desperately to get out of this conversation.

"I can't." he stepped away from her. "Look--what I said last year--I meant it. It's too dangerous." Harry said, looking at her intensely. "I just--I can't do this now." He pushed past her and walked back into the Burrow, leaving her standing, shocked.

He ducked his head and made his way through the hubbub to the steps. He'd nearly made it when-- "Harry!" Hermione's excited voice came from the door. She'd arrived just before Ron and the Order had gone to pick up Harry and was tired, but she'd been looking forward to seeing her friends all summer.

"Hey, Hermione." Harry said, obviously exhausted. "How are you?"

"I'm better now!" she said cheerfully, bounding up to him and pulling him into a tight hug. "How're you?" She asked in his ear, keeping him close.

"I'll be okay." He promised, not totally honestly. She pulled back, giving him a sympathetic look. "I swear."

"You're lying." She accused gently.

"Does it matter?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"No, I guess not." She looked down at her feet. "You, uh, you want to talk?"

"Why don't you go find Ron? He's in the kitchen with Bill talking about the wedding. That's the sort of thing you go in for, right?" he asked.

"Harry..."

"Hermione, please?" he asked, then turned and ascended the steps, his shoulders slumped, defeated. Hermione watched him go, her heart aching for her long-time friend. She knew that Harry had to deal with more then most, more then he should have to, more then anyone should have to. She wanted to tell him everything was going to be okay--but she knew she couldn't. The last thing he needed was to be lied to.

"'Mione!" Ron sprinted out of the kitchen, his face alit with a smile. He swept her up into a strong hug and then beamed at her. "How're you?" he asked. "Have you seen Harry yet? I think he went out back--"

"I only just saw him." Hermione replied. "He went upstairs, I think he was going to take a nap or something." She shrugged. Looking at her friend she realized, with a surprise, that he had gotten even taller. He must be more then 6 feet tall now! His red hair hung past his earlobes in a particularly attractive fashion, the sparse acne that he'd been having trouble with looked all but gone, and his blue eyes danced merrily, he looked as though he'd finally grown into his nose. She remembered warmly the day she'd first met him and had informed him that he'd had dirt on it.

He whistled. "You look good, 'Mione!" he exclaimed, nearly buoyant at that moment.

"My parents and I went to the Caribbean on cruise to get away from all of this." She indicated the rush of Order Members and Aurors. "A worry-free month in the sun will do one wonders." She smiled self-consciously, pulling at her robes.

"C'mon, come and say 'hi' to everyone." He grabbed her hand. When he touched her they both froze momentarily, blushing. He dropped her hand and cleared his throat. "They're in here." He ushered her towards the kitchen.

III

Jack wrinkled her nose at the terrible smell wafting from the cauldron in front of her. She coughed, looking at the hand-written book. _So far so good. _She thought. She'd followed his direction to a T--and he usually knew what he was talking about.

The smell of decay sent her plummeting back towards that dark night almost three months ago. She'd been standing at the huge double doors--waiting. She heard the battle above her and itched to join in. But she'd had strict orders--she couldn't intervene. She had to remain anonymous and with a face like hers--she'd be recognized immediately. She ran her finger over the raised scar that ran down the side of her face, through her eye, although, miraculously, not nicking it. She hated that scar. Whether people knew her or not her scar was practically legendary--or that's what Dumbledore had told her.

Dumbledore... She remembered the sick crack from only yards behind her. She'd jumped turned around, seeing his broken body lying in the grass, his silver-white hair spread around him, blood marring his face and matting that hair. It oozed sickly across the front of his robes.

Moments later he'd come barging out, the Malfoy boy in tow...

She brought herself back to the present, refusing to get caught up in the past. What had happened had happened. There was nothing she could do about that--only try to keep the future within Albus' vision. Oh, it wasn't that she liked him much, in fact she'd always rather disliked him, but that was for her own personal reasons. She couldn't deny that he had vision.

The potion sizzled and bubbled, it smelled of rotten gym socks. She felt like she was going to be sick to her stomach. And she was supposed to drink that gunk? Distastefully, she picked up the lock of hair that sat on the table next to her, it was lustrous and black, not that unlike Jack's own long, dark hair. She added it to the potion and the potion immediately turned blood red and began to smell like rotten flesh and flowers. It was a nauseating smell.


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, I am in no way affiliated with JK nor the Harry Potter franchise.

**Chapter 4: Back**

The night was a warm, sultry one, the kind of nights that only existed near the end of August. The table had been brought out once again into the backyard, only this time it had doubled in size to accommodate all of the guests. Harry sat discreetly at the right side of the table, looking out over the assembled witches and wizards. Mr. Weasley sat at the head of one side of the table, Mrs. Weasley on his right hand side, Bill and Fleur were next to them, then Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and himself. On Harry's left was Mad Eye Moody, next to him Shacklebolt, and at the other end of the table was McGonagall. On her right was Tonks, who was laughing with Remus Lupin who was next to her, beside him was the woman who'd knocked into Harry earlier that day, Melony. Melony's right hand side was taken up by Mundungus, she didn't look too happy about that, and then three witches that Harry didn't recognize, and finally, on Mr. Weasley's left was Professor Trailwey. Trailwey had apparently been spooked by Voldemort's reemergence since it was her prophesy that had named Harry as Voldemort's equal. Harry wondered briefly whether or not she really understood what her prophesy meant to Harry's life. How much weight had been put on his shoulders.

"You outdid yourself, Molly." Remus spoke up over the din.

"Here here!" Shacklebolt raised his glass.

"Here here!" Everyone echoed. Mrs. Weasley blushed. All around the table there was the sound of cheerful chatter as everyone dug in with a passion. The food was wonderful.

"C'mon, Harry, you have to eat something." Ron coaxed him encouragingly towards the meat pies.

"Not hungry." Harry replied honestly. He hadn't been hungry much over the summer, now wasn't an exception. He knew he should eat, but he couldn't bring himself to it. He'd been feeling nauseous. He hadn't slept much, because of the dreams, so he was always tired, but more then that he'd just been, for lack of a better word, depressed. Dumbledore was gone... What hope did they have?

Hermione and Ron exchanged a worried glance, but didn't push him. Ginny and Fleur seemed to be in a heated discussion about--seating arrangements. Harry took a moment to reflect on the inanity of it all. He didn't know how they could be worried about things like that when so much was going on. He didn't know how anyone at the table could be so cheerful.

Harry's mind wandered, he looked out over the grassy field and towards the dark trees. He blinked. He could've sworn he'd seen something moving in their shade. The shadow? Why was it following him?

But upon closer inspection Harry concluded that he was just seeing things and turned back towards the others.

They were interrupted by a familiar voice floating through the summer air. "Sorry I'm late, I apperated but for some reason I ended up three miles away. I think that maybe you have a dragon's nest under your house, it makes a place untraceable, you know? Father thinks there's a dragon's nest under Hogwarts." Luna walked up to the busy table. "Oh, is it dinner time already? Maybe the dragon changes the perception of time...how interesting."

"Luna?" Hermione asked, surprised, looking over at Ron. "I--didn't know you were coming."

"Oh, I talked to your mother, Ron, she said it wouldn't be a problem, since we live so close. My father is moving to Ireland to avoid the war. If I had gone with him he would've wanted me to go to school there. But, as you know, Harry, he's a big supporter of yours. I told him that you might need me this year so he let me come back to Hogwarts." She smiled wistfully. "It's all terribly romantic."

_Romantic? _Ron mouthed towards Harry.

"Uh, thanks, Luna." Harry said uncomfortably.

"Come, dear, you must be hungry." Mrs. Weasley pulled up a spare chair. "Eat, we've got enough for everyone!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I've only just eaten." Luna smiled serenely. "Father and I have been really careful about what we eat lately, what with the sneekits out this time of year."

"Sneekits." Ginny repeated flatly.

"They're bugs, they burrow into food. If you eat one then you'll turn green and sprowt horns. Mungo's full up with people with Sneekit poisoning. It's in all the papers--or the Quibbler at least. But I brought sandwiches." she indicated her bag. "Enough to last to the end of summer--or if I conserve--partway through the school year! One can never be to careful."

Mrs. Weasley looked between shocked and angry. She was looking at her carefully prepared feast. Harry wondered if she was looking for Sneekits.

III

Jack plugged her nose, squeezing her eyes shut and gulping down the disgusting potion. She felt like she was going to retch, but luckily, she had a strong stomach. When you spent ten years of your life on a steady diet of alcohol of all kinds one learnt how to hold disgusting things down.

There was a burning feeling all over her body. She felt like her insides were on fire. She buckled onto the carpet, squeezing her eyes shut, feeling her bones popping in and out of place like a jigsaw puzzle, each piece finding a new place. She lost some of the muscle mass, her body becoming thinner, but shorter, her eyes setting farther back in her head, lips shrinking, her hairline pulling forward on her head.

Finally it stopped, she breathed a sigh of relief, rolling onto her back and closing her eyes. Finally she pulled herself to her feet and moved over to the mirror, looking at the foreign woman in it, the woman with heavy-lidded eyes and strong, stubborn jaw. She smiled.

III

Jack slipped into the restaurant, moving through the thick, smoky room to the very back where fifteen or so men and women who were hunched over a small table. They looked up at her when she entered. "LeStrange, I didn't know you were joining us." a man named Burak indicated a chair at the end.

"Plans change." Jack replied evenly, scanning the faces present. "The Dark Lord wants me to look after this incursion--personally." she indicated the waiter over. "Creol Wine." she ordered Bellatrix's drink.

"Understandable." Burak said slowly. "We are attacking the Order head-on." he took a sip of his drink. "However, it begs the question, does the Dark Lord not believe in our abilities--or does he not trust us?"

Jack smiled darkly, her long, dark hair hanging in her face. "Does it really matter what he wishes? Of course not. Only that he wishes it." she looked up at Burak warningly. "Do you question him?" she asked sharply.

"Of course not." Burak replied. "Only your identity." he held out a hand.

Jack smiled, reaching into the pocket of her robes and producing a small ruby, handing it over. Burak waved a wand over it and it glowed deep blood brown. Satisfied he returned the token to her. "When do we attack?" she asked.

"Tonight, three hours from now. Our intelligence is sound, but then you know that." he looked at her again, scrutinizing her. Jack stared back at him, her eyes decidedly uninterested.

"Good." Jack replied, taking a drink from the glass just delivered. "They will bleed." she whispered.

"For the Dark Lord." one man raised his glass.

"For the Dark Lord." they all murmured.

III

Harry rolled over, not able to sleep. He wanted desperately to be downstairs with the Order; he didn't understand why McGonagall was being so strict with him. When Dumbledore had lead the order-- Don't think about him. Harry chastised himself. He knew that if he started thinking about Dumbledore he'd have the nightmares again. _Not that not thinking about him would help_. He thought darkly. The nightmares usually came anyway. Severus' face, twisted in rage and hate, the flash of green light, Dumbledore tumbling over the tower wall and disappearing into the night. And Harry, all along, frozen, unable to help.

He rolled over again; he saw Ron's sleeping form only a few feet away from his. He was curled up on his bed, snoring, while Harry was camped out on the floor. He wondered if Ron had nightmares.

Finally, giving up on trying to sleep, Harry slipped out from under the orange blanket and tiptoed out into the dark hallway. He'd spent enough time in the Weasley home to know where to step if he didn't want the floors to creak. He made his way to the stairs, skipping the seventh, eighth, twelfth, and fifteenth one, as they were very creaky. Down in the living room he walked towards the kitchen, where the Order was meeting. He pressed his ear to the door but found that the Order had put a silencing charm on it. He couldn't hear a damn thing. Angry, he thought about barging in and demanding to be allowed to attend. But somehow he didn't think that was the best way to gain McGonagall's trust.

The sound of the door being pushed open behind him almost didn't register. Luckily, someone hissed a warning to someone else. Harry spun, thanking the darkness, when he saw the silhouetted figures of fifteen men in black robes. They'd been found.

Harry slipped into the darkest corner of the family room, going through the opposite door into the back hall and out the door. He walked around the house to the other entrance to the kitchen, seeing the forms of Lupin, Tonks, McGonagall, Moody, Bill, Shacklebolt, Mr. Weasley and a few others huddled around a table. He tried the door handle but it was locked. Panicking, he ran to the window, trying to get their attention.

Of course it was Moody who saw him. Both of his eyes snapped up and the others turned around. Lupin rushed to the door, pulling it open. "Harry, what in god's name are you doing--"

"Death Eaters!" Harry exclaimed. They're here!"

That was enough, all of the members jumped to their feet, unsheathing their wands.

"Where?" Moody growled.

"They were in the entry hall. They're probably right outside the kitchen trying to listen in!" Harry said, rushed. "Or--" his eyes widened when he realized that the rest of the house was open, that his friends, that the other members of the household were open to attack.

"We're going to have to surprise them." Moody said strategically. "Everyone, outside, we'll come 'round front and surprise them from behind." He pushed past Harry, the others followed, although Mr. Weasley looked as though he wanted to go right out of the kitchen and take the Death Eaters head on.

The lot of them marched around the Burrow to the front door, which was ajar. Pushing it open quietly, Shacklebolt entered first.

All hell broke out. People were yelling spells and curses at one another. Harry ducked around the attackers and made it to the stairs. He hadn't brought his wand so he wasn't much help. He took the stairs three at a time, intent on waking up Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Mrs. Weasley.

But they were already awake. Ron poked his head out of his room, his eyes wide. "What's goin' on?" he asked groggily.

"They're here!" Harry exclaimed, pushing past his friend and into his room, grabbing his wand off the bedside table. "The Death Eaters."

"Crikey!" Ron exclaimed, fumbling for his own wand. "We've got to get Hermione and Ginny!" they both ran up some more steps to another landing. Ron banged on the door and a very wide-awake Hermione opened it. "Death Eaters are here!" he explained, out of breath.

"Oh no!" Hermione said, Ginny and Luna running up behind her. They both wore nightgowns, Ginny tugged on her own in the presence of Harry, who wasn't really paying attention. "Alright, we've got to go down and fight." Hermione said, resigned.

The five of them made it to the stairs in time to see a Death Eater ascending towards them. A sick sort of smile crossed his face. "What've we got here? The kiddies?" he couldn't see the five of them very clearly.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" Ginny exclaimed, the Death Eater went rigid.

"_Sectumsempra_!" Harry hissed before he thought about what he was doing. Instantly large wounds opened across the frozen Death Eater's chest, he toppled down the stairs, unable to move and bleeding profusely.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "You could've killed him! That's--that's _Snape's_ spell!" she reminded him.

"And now we're going to use them on his own kind." Harry said icily. "Come on." He lead the way down the stairs, the others followed, exchanging glances. "And for the record--they're Death Eaters. We kill them before they can kill us." Harry reminded them.

The fight wasn't going well. Even with the teenage reinforcements, the Death Eaters outnumbered the Order members. Harry tripped over a body at the foot of the stairs; he recognized it vaguely as an Order Member named Flipilius.

The rest of his friends flew into action, Harry, however, was scanning the onslaught, looking for any sign of the hook-nosed, greasy-haired ex-Potions Master. He almost hoped that he'd be there.

Unfortunately the masks prevented further identification, but Harry was relatively sure Snape wasn't among the attackers. Coward. Harry couldn't help thinking. He turned on a nearby Death Eater who was making his way towards him. "_Expelliarmus_!" he shouted, his opponent's wand shot out of his hand. "_Sectumsempra_!" Harry shot again. The Death Eater went down. Harry dove towards him, ripping his mask off and finding an unfamiliar face. He'd hoped it'd be Snape. He desperately wanted to use that spell on him.

Mr. Weasley yelled from across the room, Harry spun around in time to see him fall. "No!" he yelled, pointing his wand at the man standing over him. "I'm right here!" he yelled. "Don't hurt him, _I'm right here_!"

Someone grabbed him around the middle, hauling him into the vacant kitchen. He was tossed back against the wall. "What are you, _stupid_?" the person who'd grabbed him was a Death Eater, a mask over her face. "Don't go yelling at them like that, they might actually _hear_!"

"Geroff me!" Harry pushed her arm away, pointing his wand at her. "_Sectumsempra_!" He yelled.

She waved her hand, as if swatting off a fly. Harry had seen Severus do the same thing to his spells the night he'd killed Dumbledore. "_Idiot_!" the woman exclaimed. "_Stay_!" and then she turned, stalking back into the hallway. Harry ran after her.

"_Crustacio_!" She yelled at a Death Eater very near her, he fell, screaming and twitching, releasing a hassled-looking Tonks. She looked up at her savior in surprise. "_Stupify_!" she cast at the man about to kill Mr. Weasley. Then, very suddenly, her hand slid into the front of her robes, a gun (_what would a Death Eater have a gun for? _Harry was stunned, he'd never seen a gun in the wizarding world) was produced. She aimed with ease, hitting a man across the room, fighting Shacklebolt, in the head. He went down with a yell. Her leg lashed out and she kicked another man in the face, causing his mask to crack. He yelled in pain, covering his nose and his eyes that were both bleeding profusely. She grabbed him around the neck and snapped it easily. "_Diffindo Capitis_!" she pointed her wand at another Death Eater. To Harry's horror the man gave a blood curdling scream, his head lolled back and then seemed to roll right off his shoulders. She shot off another round of her gun, hitting a Death Eater in the shoulder as he was raising his wand against Hermione. "Well don't just stand there, boy, you want to help? Help!" she roared back at him.

Harry jolted, realizing she was talking to him and that he was just standing there, open mouthed.

The woman jumped onto the coffee table, it groaned at the force of her hitting it. She aimed her gun and shot a third Death Eater, while, at the same time, casting "_Engorgio Totalus_" on another man. He fell, his body beginning to bloat sickly. He kept getting larger and larger until his skin couldn't take it anymore and he burst, spraying blood and stench through the room.

The Death Eaters, upon seeing this, called retreat. The only four left standing ran towards the door. The Order was too quick for them, stopping three, but missing the fourth. "_Petrificus totalus_." The mysterious woman hit the last one one in the back and he fell like a board onto the carpet. Jumping off of the table she stalked over to him, pulling off the mask she wore and throwing back the hood. Her beautiful face was lit by moonlight; it was twisted into a grin of triumph, her light eyes deadly. She squatted next to him. "_Nix_." She hissed, grabbing his wand and a handful of his robes, bringing him up near her face. He breathed heavily, his eyes going wide in terror. "You know who I am?" she asked coolly. Her voice was decidedly American.

"You--you--not possible--you--you're dead!" he stammered.

"Rumors of my death have been highly exaggerated." The woman said cruelly, shoving her wand deep into his throat. "I'm going to let you live for one reason and one reason only. You are to go back to your master and tell him that I'm back--and I want my pound of flesh. An eye--" she tapped a scar on her face that ran across her eye, "for an eye." And then she tossed him to his feet. "Run!" she barked. He didn't move. "Run piggy, piggy or I'll blow your fucking head off your shoulders right now!" she threatened, aiming her gun at him.

The man turned and ran, not even remembering to disappearate once he was a far enough distance from the Burrow and its anti-apperation spell. He just ran across the grassy field and into the woods. "I love it when they run." She murmured, a sick smile on her face, her eyes gleaming madly.

"Who are you?" Shacklebolt managed. "You had a Death Eater's mask--"

She turned to face him. "Dramatic effect. I didn't know where they were raiding, I didn't think they'd attack here." She shrugged. "Besides, I'm not exactly anonymous. Death Eaters see me and they're on me like shit on a blanket." She turned to face them, squaring her shoulders. "It's all a very nasty business."

"Yes, but _who are you_?" Shaklebolt repeated.

"You're not her." Remus' cold voice came from the other side of the room. He'd picked himself up off of the floor and was now pointing his wand accusingly at her. "I don't know who you are but you're not _her_." Harry had never seen Remus look so angry the entire time he'd known him.

"Remmy, c'mon, put that thing away, you could hurt yourself." The woman said scornfully, but a discreet smile was curling at the corner of her lips. "Didn't you know that most accidents happen in the household?"

"Stop it!" Remus bellowed, his eyes had a crazy gleam to them. "Stop--_pretending _to be her!"

"I'm not pretending, Remmy, it's me." She said, opening her arms.

"He must be getting sloppy, you're fifteen years too young anyway--or didn't you think of that?" Remus now stood only a couple feet away from her. "Even if she were alive she'd be--well, she'd be as old as I am!"

"Remus...?" Mrs. Weasley asked, confused. "Who is this woman?"

"She's _supposed _to be Jacquolyn Avvor." Remus replied coolly.

That name seemed to have an effect on everyone except Harry. They all looked at the woman with wide eyes. "Who?" Harry asked, feeling dumb. He'd thought his days of feeling like an idiot in a new world were over.

"Best Auror who ever lived." Moody replied. "But he's right, girlie, I knew Avvor, and you aren't her. She died fifteen years ago."

"That's only what he _wanted _you to think, Alaster." The woman looked at him with a crooked half-smile. "I've just--aged well." She chuckled at a private joke.

"Don't do that!" Remus yelled. "Don't--_laugh _like her, don't _talk _like her! You--you aren't good enough to wear that skin! What is it, polyjuce? An illusionment spell?"

"Remmy, look--" she started.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" he yelled, surprising everyone. Harry noticed, with surprise, that there were tears in his eyes.

"Remus, maybe we should let her explain." Moody laid a hand on Remus' shoulder. "She's surrounded, it's not as though she could get away, just put the wand down and let her explain herself."

Remus, grudgingly, lowered his wand. "I want some answers. I want to know who you are and what you're getting at, pretending to be Jack."

"I'm not getting at anything." The woman who pretended to be Jack replied. "Fifteen years ago Dumbledore came to me and asked me to place myself in suspended animation for the time when Voldemort would rise again. The old coot was sure that we hadn't heard the last of him." Harry noticed she used Voldemort's name instead one of the many names other witches and wizards used. She wasn't afraid. "He said that he couldn't risk my getting killed in the process, that he wanted me at my peak, thought that I could help out. So he placed me in the Time Room in the Hall of Mysteries--"

"I _knew _I'd seen you somewhere before!" Ron exclaimed, excited. "When we were in the Hall of Mysteries a year ago I _saw _her! She was tucked into the back of the room in a glass box, she wasn't moving, I thought she was dead!" he looked at Jack. "But you were just frozen!"

"You saw her?" Remus turned on Ron. "You're _sure _you saw _her_?"

"Yea, I'm sure! Who forgets a body like that?" and then he turned pink. "I--I mean--I almost ran right into her. Thought it was kinda creepy at the time, keeping a corpse back there."

"See?" Jack exclaimed. "I'm telling the truth! Remmy, Remus, _whatever_, it's me! I'm back! Dumbledore woke me up a week before--well, before he was killed."

"You know who killed him?" Remus asked in a hushed voice.

Jack just looked at him, and then dropped her eyes. "Yea, I know." She replied. "But he woke me up, told me everything that'd happened." she met his eyes hopefully. "I don't know how I can prove it--you have to believe me." she begged. "Please, Remmy..." she trailed off.

The tense moment was suddenly interrupted by the screech of a large bird. It was a particularly musical screech, one that Harry recognized immediately. He whipped around, with the rest of the Order, to the open window behind them. Sure enough the silhouette of a large bird blocked the moonlight. Faux flew into the room, feathers bright, fiery red, his head thrown back, he screeched again.

Then, without further prompting, his flew over to Jack, landing on her arm gracefully. He drew his wings back and blinked at her, leaning forward and nuzzling her cheek. "Faux." she murmured, rubbing his head with her free hand. "You do have better timing then most humans." she smiled. "Do you think that Faux would've come to me if I weren't who I say I am? Do you think that he would be fooled by some two-bit Polyjuice potion?"

"Oh god..." Remus' wand fell to his side, he covered his mouth. "Jack..." Faux seemed to realize that it wasn't the best time to be perched on Jack's arm. It flew across the room, nearly running into Tonks, before settling on the back of a battered and bloody couch. Remus threw his arms around Jack, kissing her forehead and her cheeks and her lips. "I can't believe it." He murmured into her hair. "All this time--I can't believe it." He cupped her face with his hands. "You look just the same." He said with a weak chuckle, kissing her firmly on the lips.

"And you're getting on in years, old man." She replied, tweaking his nose. "Seriously, how old are you? Forty?"

"Thirty-nine." He replied. "You'd be--thirty-eight now, wouldn't you?" he asked.

"Ah yes, I guess I'd be just as old and haggard as you, Moony."

Harry was jolted out of his thoughts at the sound of his father and godfather's name for Remus. "You knew my father?" he asked suddenly, all eyes turned to him again.

She looked at him with amusement in her eyes. "Ah, Potter, Potter, Potter. How does that name sound familiar, Remmy?" she looked over her shoulder at her--boyfriend? Was that what this was?

"Don't, Jack." Remus said softly.

"Ah, King James." She said in fake revelation. "James the Great." She shook her head. "All I can say, Harry, is that I hope you don't take after you father more so then just aesthetically. Your mother, on the other hand, bright girl. Good heart. She wasn't as--small minded as James was."

"Jack." Remus put a hand on her shoulder.

"Yea, I knew your father--and your godfather." She shook her head. "I probably knew him better. Sirius was the God among insects, he was. James was his cohort in crime. Used to torment S--well, they used to torment anyone who didn't meet their standards." She shrugged. "But I guess that's what youth and good looks will do to you." Harry didn't know how to reply, he'd always heard good things about his father (except from Snape). "But they were just kids. I knew them when they were seventeen and the most popular click in Hogwarts. Girls wanted them, boys wanted to be them. I don't mean to offend their memories; I just never got on well with them."

"But you and Remus are--friends." Harry pointed out.

"Remus was more of a--free spirit." Jack replied. "And, to tell the truth, Remus was one of the only people I did get on with." She chuckled. "However, while this conversation is quite touching and I think that I'm actually beginning to tear up, I think that it'd be best if we had this little tit on tat later. There could be more baddies lurking about, as they do, with their...lurking." she thought for a moment before deciding that the sentence was good enough. "And it is my policy that no lurking is good lurking. So I'm going to do a little of my own and make sure that we really are back in Kansas." she winked, trotting out the door.

They all stared at the door she exited. "What--what did she say?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"She's checking to be sure that all of the Death Eaters are really gone." Remus supplied.

"Well why didn't she just say so?" Molly asked.

Remus shrugged, "she's American."

"Ah." Mrs. Weasley nodded, as though it explained everything.

Remus smiled a private smile, looking over at the door she'd exited. "Well, I'm guessing this just about brightens your day." Moody said to the werewolf. "Seeing her again."

"More then brightens, Moody." Remus looked at the old man. "With her here we've got a chance--a real chance at winning this."

"Dumbledore always did plan for the future." Moody commented.

"I hardly think that Jacquolyn Avvora alone will be the deciding factor in our fight against the Death Eaters." McGonagall spoke up, her voice very strict and teacherly, disapproving. "She is bright, I'll give her that, but she's dangerous. Can't be controlled."

Remus looked antsy. He obviously wanted to follow his (girl)friend, but didn't want to walk out on McGonnigal or the Order.

"Which is exactly why she is so effective." Mr. Weasley spoke up. "I've read about her. She practiced unorthodox methods but she was the best of the best." He whistled in appreciation.

"Oh, look at this place!" Mrs. Weasley spoke up. "Alright, everyone! I want this mess cleaned up by tomorrow morning."

"Speaking of which, Minerva. Since it is obvious we aren't safe here anymore..." Remus trailed off meaningfully.

"I am afraid that there is no other alternative, for the moment. We must return to the House of Black sooner then we had planned." She looked at Harry.

"But we don't know if it's safe there yet!" Ron exclaimed. "With Bellatrix's claim and all..."

"Dumbledore seemed to think that it was safe. It was his plan all along to move base back there eventually. And Harry's claim does seem to surpass Bellatrix's." McGonagall said softly, knowing that it wasn't a topic that was much for discussion--Sirius and Dumbledore.

"They got two of us." Tonks called from across the room. "Fillipius and Gavin." She looked over at them. "They're dead."

"Casualties of war." Moody murmured.

"Yes." McGonagall's voice, if possible, got more cold and unfeeling. "It does seem that way. Please bring their bodies into the kitchen and we will contact their families immediately. They will be buried with complete honors."

"You make it sound so easy." Tonks said softly. "Like it's every day that we see people die. People we know. _Our _people."

"My dear girl, it is every day that we see our own people die. Now a days, all days until this is over. We have to get used to death, the idea that any one of us could die at any moment. I think that Jacquolyn's reappearance proves the fact that we can rely on nothing, nothing is sacred and nothing is safe. We must all be aware of the fact that we may not all come out of this alive. We have to be willing to sacrifice not only ourselves but those we love. And if we can't--we have no hope of winning this war because He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named holds nothing dear and so is willing to sacrifice everything."

"You're sounding more and more like Dumbledore every day, Minerva." An old wizard named Koonts said admiringly.

"Yes, well, we can't lose faith, that is all I mean." McGonagall said softly.

"Uh, Minerva?" Shacklebolt called from the other side of the room, he was cleaning up the entrails left behind by the man that Jack had exploded. "About the House of Black. Now that Dumbledore is--no longer here--who's to say whether or not the House is still untraceable? He was the secret keeper, after all."

"There are two possibilities. Albus--" she sniffed, "never told me if he had set up a second. It is possible that he did--"

"A second?" Ron asked curiously. "A second is a backup. If the castor of the spell thinks that his or her life might be in danger they can cast the spell so that upon death the responsibility is automatically transferred to a second person." Hermione supplied.

"Precisely." McGonnigal nodded. "I see you haven't neglected your studies this year, Ms. Granger. However, I am unaware of any such failsafe. More likely the house is currently in limbo. It does not exist for any one person. It can remain like this for seven months before the magic wears off if the spell isn't cast again."

"Well how do we know if Dumbledore used a second?" Tonks asked curiously, glancing over at Remus who wasn't really paying attention to the conversation. He was staring at the open door. She bit back a feeling of jealousy.

"Simple. We will all simply try to say the location of the House of Black. Only the Secret Keeper can. If no one can recite the address then it is obvious there was no second." McGonnigal reasoned. "I have already tried but I cannot. Harry, you would be the next logical choice."

Harry opened his mouth, but found that the words would come out. He closed it again and shook his head. They went around the room, none of them were able to utter even the number of the house, let alone the street address.

"Then I suppose that we must recast the spell." McGonnigal sighed. "And it is such a hard spell to cast."

"So, I'm sorry, but who exactly was Jacquolyn Avvor? I've heard the name, certainly, but I've never quite known about her." Hermione spoke up, effectively changing the subject after a long pause. Harry heaved a sigh of relief; at least he wouldn't have to be the one asking.

"Jacquolyn Avvor was only the greatest Auror ever!" Tonks spoke up enthusiastically. "She and Dumbledore used to sweep up the competition! She was a 'lose cannon,' not really a favorite of the Ministry, had a habit of finishing what she started right there instead of waiting for proper authorization. She once killed this Dark Wizard named Kovvallish, he was this Russian wizard who was practically as bad as You-Know-Who. Anyway, she tracked him for, like, _months _until she found him holed up in some little town in Germany. They dueled, practically blew up the entire town! Luckily Germany didn't prosecute her for the damage and all of the Muggle's minds who had to be augmented because they were just so glad that Kovvallish was gone. He'd killed every Auror who got in his way but her, I think she was only, like, twenty or something--"

"Twenty-one." Remus corrected her.

"Yea, twenty-one, anyway, she just _wiped _the _floor _with him! Demolished him! By the time the authorities got there there was barely enough of him left to fit in a shoebox. She took some sort of curse to the arm--"

"It was a plague curse, it turned her shoulder and her arm black, like it was rotten. It was a bad one, but luckily the wizards who came to the scene had seen it before and the German Reversal Committee was able to straighten it out before it could kill her." Remus further supplied.

"Hey--how do you know her so well? You two were all mooshy just a second ago." Tonks suddenly accused. Harry had surmised that whatever had transpired between them last summer was definitely over and hadn't pressed Lupin for details. "Did you know her?"

"I knew her." Remus smiled mistily. "We went to school together, like she said. She was my best friend in my final years there and we lived together a while after we graduated. I wasn't doing well because of what I was, no one would hire me. So I was working at a restaurant, but she got right into the Academy in America and on the Auror Squad. She had enough money to support herself and, partially, myself. When You-Know-Who started gaining more power she moved back to England, a lot of Aurors were coming in from all over the world, it used to be common practice that many different Wizarding Nations would help one another when it was really needed. We moved in together. Without her I'd have never made it." He sighed. "When she died--I was still living with her and I was named in her living will as the benefactor to all of her possessions and money. It killed me, but I lived off of it ever since. Her mother was quite rich and had died when she was six. All of it became mine because she had no other relatives. She, quite literally, saved my life."

"But you two were--together?" Mrs. Weasley was drawn into the conversation at the prospect of gossip.

"No." Remus said shortly. "She had--differing tastes." He shifted slightly.

"I'd say." Moody chuckled, Remus shot him a warning look and the old man winked back.

"What do you mean 'I'd say?'" Ginny tried, as much of a gossip monger as her mother. "Who was her tastes? She isn't gay, is she?"

"No." Remus shook his head again. "She fell in love very early on and the boy betrayed her. Broke her heart. She was alone for the last six years of her life. Didn't really seem to have any interest in love."

"Who'd leave a girl like that?" Ron muttered to Harry, who shrugged, equally mystified.

"Why don't you go out and see to her, Remus?" Mrs. Weasly suggested kindly. "We can take care of down here."

Remus practically dropped the body he was moving with Bill and ran out the door with a quick 'thank you.'

"_I_ think he's lying." Ginny said to Hermione and Luna. "Did you see the way that they looked at each other? Friends? I think not."

"Oh I don't know." Luna said softly. ⌠I think that he's like a brother to her. He certainly has feelings for her, but she probably never saw it." And she went about her business. Both Hermione and Ginny watched her, wondering for the hundredth time how she could see someone so briefly and know so much.

III

Remus found Jack perched on the rickety fence on the far side of the house, Faux (whose departing the house no one had noticed) was perched on the fence beside her, watching her. "Is this a new tactic for finding Death Eaters? Make yourself a target and wait for them to come to you?" Remus called.

Jack looked over at him with a dry look. "They're long gone, and if they aren't--they're stupid." she replied. "I just didn't feel like singing kumbiah or anything." she jerked her head towards the house. "How is the Brady Bunch doing anyway?"

"We made it through alright." Remus replied, leaning on the fence next to her, not able to take his eyes off of her even for a second. He was fairly certain if he did he would wake up from this dream and find out that it wasn't real. "We only lost two."

"Good." She sighed, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. "Jesus, I'm beat." she sighed.

"You've been asleep for almost twenty years, I'd think that you'd be up and about." he replied, not able to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "Jack..."

"Remmy, I'm sorry." she jumped down from the fence, leaning into him. He put his arm around her shoulders and she lay her head on his chest. "I wanted to tell you but it all happened so fast. They needed to make it seem real. I hear you made a very moving speech at my funeral."

He chuckled, feeling tears stinging at his eyes, he sniffed. "It killed me, you know." his voice was choked. She looked up at him in surprise.

She caught one tear as it streaked down his cheek. "I'm sorry." She repeated.

"I just--when you died--I thought my life was over. You were the only thing keeping me grounded." he brushed his thumb along her cheek. "You were--you are my best friend. The best friend I've ever had in my entire life--you were the only one I ever really trusted." he pulled her to him roughly, burying his face in her hair. "I thought I lost you." a sob racked his thin frame.

She held him close. "Shhh." she rubbed his back. "I'm so sorry, honey, I wanted to tell you so badly, I'm so sorry." she kissed his neck, laying her hot forehead in the crook of it.

He pulled back, cupping her face, searching her eyes. "I'm still not sure if I believe this." he murmured. "It's too good..."

"Remmy." she smiled, leaning into his hand. "I'm real, I promise. You're not asleep, you're not hallucinating, I'm here. Everything'll be just like it used to be."

He pulled away, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "How?" he asked after a long moment. "I've changed, you haven't."

"You saying that you won't put up with my shit anymore?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Wolfboy grow some balls while I was away at summer camp?"

He chuckled, sniffing and roughly wiping his face. "Things haven't been good--for me." he looked over at her. "But that doesn't matter now." he smiled, pulling her to him again. "You're alive. I can't think of anything I'd want more."

"You know if you keep playing yo-yo with the Jack she's going to get sick." she pointed out the hugging and the pulling away. "I'm still kind of wobbly on my new-doe legs."

He chuckled again, then his face went serious. "Have you seen him?" he asked.

Her jaw tightened. "Yes." she replied. "I was there the night Dumbledore died. I saw him run."

Remus sighed. "It was a great loss." he said quietly. "Dumbledore is--was a great leader." he shook his head. "Unfortunately he didn't leave behind a manual or a map or anything. We don't even know who the Secret Keeper of the Order's Headquarters is--or if there is one at all."

"The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, London, England." Jack replied before Remus could slap his hand over her mouth to stop her.

"What're you doing?" he hissed. "What if there's someone listening!"

"Who--" she pulled his hand away. "Who, Faux?" she looked over at the bird. "I don't think he'll tell anyone. And if he does--we'll pluck him and make him Thanksgiving Dinner." she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the Phoenix who looked at her with an almost dry expression in it's intelligent eyes. "I always wondered what Phoenix tasted like."

"_You're_ the Secret Keeper?" Remus asked, realizing the implication. "Dumbledore trusted you above Harry and Minerva..." he trailed off.

"Dumbledore trusted me more then anyone, you know that, Remus." she pointed out. "Who better to carry the secret then someone whose mind is absolutely inaccessible. Even Severus couldn't break in here. It's like Fort Knox." she tapped her brow.

"It doesn't add up, Jack, and you know it." Remus accused. "Faux coming to you the moment Dumbledore died, you being his secret keeper, what else aren't you telling me?"

"That, apparently, I'm supposed to run the Order or something. "She shrugged.

"You?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"No." She shook her head, a devious glint in her eye. "But it's what I'm going to tell Furball in there." she chuckled.

"I still don't appreciate that." McGonnigall's voice came from behind them, they both jumped and turned to face her, their faces as guilty as they used to be when she'd catch them out of their dorms at night. "You are the Secret Keeper then, interesting." she looked at Faux and then at Jack. "Very interesting." she turned her attention to Remus. "I assume that you have finished your sweep. I would like to meet with everyone inside now." she said and then turned and walked away brusquely.

"I think we're going to get detention." Jack said after a pause, starting towards the house.


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I affiliated in any way with JK or the Harry Potter franchise.

**Chapter 5: Hide and Seek**

"I'm so sorry my Lord, it wasn't my fault! How were we supposed to know that _she _would show up? She's dead! She's dead, oh, please, have mercy!" the surviving Death Eater begged. "Oh, please, please, please!"

"Do not beg at my feet like a dog." Voldmort hissed, disgusted. "You are a Death Eater, you are better then that. Show the proper respect and do not dirty my carpet." All of this he said in a very calm, very deadly voice.

The Death Eater immediately began to bow, sniffing, and rubbing at the carpet all at once. "I am so sorry, my Lord." he said.

"Tell me exactly what happened. How did she find out about our plan?" He asked.

"She tricked us!" the Death Eater replied. "We have a traitor among us! She came to us when we were in the War's End, she had the face of Lady LeStrange, she possessed the Blood Stone, it reacted to her touch! The stone was authenticated, she told us that you had sent her to--"

"Do you take orders from Bellatrix Lestrange?" Voldemort asked, looking down at the shaking man's head.

"No sir, never sir! We take orders only from you, sir!" The man exclaimed.

"Then why would you allow her to accompany you when I told you that she would be remaining here?" Voldemort led.

"She--she had the stone!" the Death Eater exclaimed.

Voldemort clicked his tongue. "I am disappointed in you, Valince, I had such high hopes. The stone is difficult to replicate and difficult to steal, we will look into this. If it turns out that Bellatrix has let hers go astray she will be punished. However, this army is only as strong as it's weakest link. It is only strong if you take orders only from me. If you begin to answer to a hierarchy then there will be chaos. I am the Dark Lord. You should do nothing unless I tell you to. You should not breathe unless I tell you to. You should not eat unless I tell you to. And you should most definitely not let anyone in on plans that I have not explicitly told you to."

"Yes, Lord, oh yes, it will never happen again. I swear on my life's blood. Oh, please, have mercy, Dark Lord." the man begged.

"On your life's blood?" Voldemort repeated. "And what is that worth?" he flicked his wand at the man. "Nothing if I do not value it."

The Death Eater screamed, writing on the floor, blood pouring out from every orifice. He screamed and he screamed until the blood choked his throat and then he only gurgled pathetically before he fell silent altogether, his blood-stained eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling.

"And yet he still ruins your carpets. I do believe you should be more selective when you chose who should follow you." the Heir strolled out into Voldemort's quarters. "At least they should be obedient."

"Indeed." Voldemort studied the Death Eater's face. "It seems like Jacquolyn has lost none of her sway nor her power in her absence. Her name still strikes fear."

"Only your name should strike fear." the Heir interjected.

"You are correct. Tell me, how do you propose that we rectify this mistake?" he looked over at the heir.

"Kill her." the heir replied simply.

"No, I have use of her yet. She is a powerful tool, and a powerful pawn, if only I could control her."

"I think she's made it abundantly clear she would not follow you." the heir pointed out. "She is a danger, she should be eliminated. You are not playing chess, you are playing for keeps. You cannot afford to indulge your fancies."

Voldemort studied the other person for a moment, steepling his fingers. "Perhaps you are correct." he conceded. "Perhaps I have failed thus far because I have given into whim."

"You _are _human." The heir replied.

The Dark Lord's eyes widened momentarily in anger, but it immediately subsided. If it were any other person he would've killed them immediately. "Perhaps. But I do believe that she will make this all the more interesting." a slow smile crossed his face. "I do enjoy the hunt."

"And she is the stag." the heir replied with a small chuckle. "It's almost poetic, if it weren't so pathetically, well, pathetic. She will fall."

"Yes, she will fall." Voldemort replied.

III

The Burrow was a flurry again. There were people packing, people cleaning, and people just having complete mental breakdowns (mostly Mrs. Weasley). The dead had been returned to their families as though they had never existed. Harry shivered at the simplicity of it all. Would it be so simple if it were Ron or Hermione? If it were him? Would life just keep going? _Yes_. He thought._ We can't afford the time_.

Luna had apparently been struck down by Sneekit poisoning despite her precautions and declared herself green. She'd locked herself in Ginny's room and refused to come out. Because she was already packed Mrs. Weasley had let her stay there. Ron, on the other hand, was not so lucky.

"Have you packed all of your things?" Mrs. Weasley was asking Ron.

"Yes, mum." Ron sighed.

"Your clothes?"

"Yes, mum."

"Your socks and underwear?"

"Yes, mum."

"Your books?"

"Yes, mum."

"School things?"

"Honestly, mum, I can do this. And I'm done. Alright?" he asked, obviously annoyed.

"Oh, Ronald, I'm just worried. We might not be able to come home for some time." Mrs. Weasley worried her apron. "Oh, I can't believe we were so dumb to think that he couldn't pass our defenses." she let out a little choking sob. "And those poor people. Oh, oh." she fought tears. "I think that the oven is going." and she turned and ran off towards the kitchen.

"Bloody hell, you'd think that one of us died." Ron whispered.

"They did." Harry replied.

Before Ron could clarify there was a commotion at the door. "Oy, little Ronny, come and give your brother a hug." Charlie voice carried from the door. Ron turned, surprised. "Hey!"

"Charlie!" Ron greeted Charlie excitedly. "How're you?"

"I'm just fine, how's everything? Has Mum gone mad yet?" he asked, his eyes sparkling.

"Just about." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Ah, Harry." Charlie shook his hand. "And always a pleasure."

"Charl?" a woman's voice, heavily accented, came from behind him. "Shall I come or stand here for you to let me by?" her English was alright, but only slightly broken.

"Oh, Nadia." Charlie stepped aside, turning pink.

A rather pretty woman entered. She was about 5 foot 2 with long, wavy dark hair and an olive complexion, large, honey-colored, almond shaped eyes, and full lips. Her hands were rather rough, she obviously was not unused to physical labor, and she had some muscle around her arms. "Ron, Harry, this is Nadia, Nadia Ramon." he introduced them.

"It is nice to meet you." she shook their hands warmly. "I have heard so much about you."

"You work with Charlie in Romania?" Ron asked, looking between the two and trying to figure the connection.

"I do." Nadia replied. "Dragons are a bit of a habit for me." She smiled broadly. "And Charl needs guide."

"Charl?" Ron repeated, looking at his older brother, who blushed under his weather-beaten tan.

"Oh, Charlie!" Mrs. Weasely raced out of the kitchen to embrace her older son. "Thank goodness you're here."

"Looks like I'm just in time." Charlie patted his mother on the back affectionately. "What happened? Was it trolls? A group of savage trolls?"

"Oh, no, the mess." Mrs. Weasley blushed much like her son. "Death Eaters found us, Charley, oh it was horrible. Two people are dead and we have to move!" she covered her mouth and sobbed, burying her face in Charlie's shoulder.

"Oh, mum, I'm sorry." Charlie said uncertainly, looking at Ron and Harry who both nodded accentingly. "Was it anyone I knew?"

"No." Mrs. Weasley wiped her face. "No, they were new, but still...who are you?" she noticed Nadia.

"Oh, mum, this is Nadia. She's our guide in Romania. I invited her to the wedding." he put a hand on Nadia's back, urging her towards his mother. Ron and Harry exchanged a look. That hand was a little more then familiar with her lower back, it was a rather intimate gesture, to be sure.

"It is nice to meet you, Mrs. Weasely." Nadia greeted her. "I have heard much about you from Charlie." she extended a hand.

"Oh tosh." Mrs. Weasley batted the hand aside and pulled the other woman into a tight hug. "It is always nice to meet friends of Charlie's. We see him so _infrequently_--" she said pointedly, glancing at her son, "it's nice to know he has a family there too."

"Ah yes, Charlie and I are very close." Nadia replied with a smile. "We are all very close, it is not large group that hunts Romanian Dragons." She chuckled. "It is very few who dare. We take care of each other."

"Ah yes, well, I am glad that you and Charlie are _close_." She looked at Charlie pointedly again.

"Mum..." Charlie complained.

"What, I'm just saying." Mrs. Weasley shrugged. "After all, you and Bill are only a year apart."

"Mum!" Charlie complained.

"It's nice to know that it isn't just me she makes life hell for." Ron said to Harry with a smile.

III

"Oh, I just don't know!" Fleur exclaimed, looking at the flowers on the table. "I theenk the red is very pretty, but do ve want zat sort of red at our wedding? I theenk it looks too--violent, no?" she looked at Bill, who shrugged. "Help me!" she punched him gently. "Ze wedding iz _tomorrow_, I hardly theenk we have ze time to be without an opinion!"

"I'm sorry, honey, I just have a lot of things on my mind." Bill apologized, looking up at the Flower Arranger who rolled his eyes, Bill gave him a slight smile at his bride's expense. "Do we really want to go through with it tomorrow? We have to move the headquarters..."

"Ve are getting married tomorrow and zat is _final_!" Fleur exclaimed. "And if you even theenk about trying to talk me out of it..." she narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"Of course." Bill indulged her.

"And my dress, how is my dress?" She asked, looking back at Mrs. Weasley. "Do ve know if it eez done yet?"

"It's perfectly fine, darling." Mrs. Weasley (who looked ready to strangle the younger woman) told her. "We've just gotten it back from the fitters. Everything is all ready."

"And the warding spells?" Bill asked.

"Moody and Remus are out there doing them right now. It should be fine for tomorrow. They figure it'll be safe, since it's about twenty miles in the woods behind the Burrow, but they just want to be safe." she explained.

"Yes, we do not want any Death Eaters to attend." she tittered. Ginny, who sat at the back of the room, made a motion as if to strangle her. She was going to be the cord bearer, the one who brought the binding cords to the Presiding Wizard, and for some reason this apparently meant to Fleur that she needed to be in on all of the preparations. Her head was about to explode. If she had to listen to one more gripe about flowers or the cake or the reception or the dress or her hair or the location she was going to kill her soon to be sister-in-law.

"Everything is going to be fine, dear." Bill told Fleur.

"Of course." she cooed, leaning in for a kiss with Bill. "I am marrying you, what could go wrong?" Ginny felt sick.

"Here, try this." Mrs. Weasley set down a slice of cake in front of Fleur that she'd just finished baking. "Tell me what you think."

"For ze wedding?" Fleur asked, looking up at her.

"Right." Mrs. Weasley told her with a smile.

Fleur took a tentative bite, apparently swirling it around in her mouth like a wine connoisseur before swallowing. "Is very good." she smiled, delighted. "Is very, very good!"

"Uh..." the Flower Arranger said uncertainly, Ginny suppressed a giggle, Mrs. Weasley's eyes got wide, and Bill, well Bill was trying not to laugh either.

"What? What is zo funny?" Fleur asked, red spots covering her face.

"FRED! GEORGE!" Mrs. Weasley bellowed

Fred and George gave each other a high five before turning and bolting.

III

Jack caught him just as he was about to leave. "Mundungeous, right?" She asked, looking down at the small man.

He swept into a low bow. "Mundugeous at your service, my lady." he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

"Lay off the crap, I need help." Jack replied dryly. "And besides--you're not my type." she smiled smugly.

"A lady who speaks plainly, just _my_ type." he grinned. "And a lady wanting to talk business, you are a dream come true. Now what is it you need help with? I have all sorts of things. Magical items, cultic items, tell me, do you know what help a voodoo head could be in your everyday--"

"Can it. I need somewhere to hide someone." Jack interrupted him. "Somewhere completely undetectable. Somewhere that not even Dumbledore, rest his restless soul, could've found. Remmy tells me you're the man with a plan, so tell me: anything in mind?" she cocked an eyebrow.

"I know a few places that not even god could find, my dear. But it'll come at a price." he grinned a snaggle-toothed grin.

"Money isn't an object, just information." she replied darkly.

"You don't have a sister, do you?" Mundugeous grinned more widely.

III

_Two months ago_...

He didn't know how long he'd been hiding there. His mind hadn't been functioning all that well in the past week. He knew it was because of the stress and because he'd forgotten to take his medicine. But the pain kept him awake. As long as he was in pain, as long as it took real effort to move, then he didn't fall asleep. And he couldn't afford to sleep. Not now. Not with them so close.

He knew they were closing in. His only hope was to become invisible. He wished that he could just sink into the walls, become the house, but he knew that was the delirium from a week without sleep talking.

But they couldn't find him if he were a house.

Shaking his head, he tried to clear his mind. He had to be lucid. He had to be in control. The last time that he'd stood before the Dark Lord he'd been within an inch of letting all of his barriers collapse. Voldemort had almost seen the truth... _Sloppy_. He thought.

He sat down, his aching back against the wall, he bowed his head, the rank smell of urine and stale cigarettes filled his nose. He wondered how long he'd been here again. Days? Weeks? Maybe he'd always been here. Maybe he was going insane. He could still picture the face of his last victim. How absolutely vulnerable. How weak. How disgustingly weak. A mirror of the killer's own soul. A coward.

He tried to make his legs work, tried to make himself get to his feet. Tried to raise his head, tried to open his eyes--but he couldn't. His whole body seemed to have shut down. For a terrifying moment the killer wondered if he would be trapped inside an immobile body forever until he died of dehydration and starvation. _It would be a gift compared to what would come otherwise_. He thought darkly.

The sound of footsteps echoed above him. The killer looked up, frantically, forgetting that he couldn't move. His whole body tensed, his first instinct was to run, his second to curl into a ball and disappear into the concrete floor. However, neither his body would perform. So he sat, weak and alone, for his hunters to find him.

The door opened, light poured down into the damp darkness. The killer began to tremble involuntarily. He knew that he didn't have the strength to fight and win against one wizard--let alone two, which, by the sound of the footsteps, there were. "Down here!" one voice called. "There's a room!"

Another man called out something which the killer couldn't make out, and then both were descending into the safety of the killer's hiding place.

In a burst of energy, whether it be brought on from fear or an inner strength, the killer leapt towards the sliding glass door, managing to get it open, but cutting his hand on the broken glass.

The blinding sunlight beyond blinded him. He fell backwards, his head exploding in pain, and he gave a cry. "He's down here!" the first voice called. "Don't move, motherfucker, or we'll blast you!"

But the killer couldn't've moved anyway. When he'd fallen he'd hit his head against the concrete and the sensation of floating consumed his senses. For a moment everything was white and padded. He couldn't move. He couldn't hear.

Hands grabbed him, dragging him back into the darkness and throwing him against the wall. The killer sat, immobile, sinking downwards, blinking furiously. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Tummos and Ludvik leered down at their prey, a little too much wolf in both of their faces. "Well, well, well, what have we here?" Tummos asked, looking over at his partner. "It looks like we've apprehended the _infamous_ Severus Snape." He chuckled. "What does that make us, Ludvik?"

"Big fucking heroes, Tummos." Ludvik replied with a smile.

"Heroes indeed." Tummos smiled. "Pathetic old man, _hardly_ a man." He commented. "What've you got to say for yourself, Sev? C'mon, a man of your status has got to have something to say. Tell us--if you're so smart as to outfool a man like the late, great Albus Dumbledore, how did we find you so easily? Losing your touch, eh'?"

"He's getting on in his years." Ludvik pointed out, sneering. "Hasn't got the fight in him. He's just a sick, broken man."

Snape refused to look up at his captors from his humiliating position on his knees in the dank cellar. He refused to admit that he'd not expected the Aurors to find him so quickly. That he really was losing his touch.

"Maybe he's senile." Tummos suggested. "Forgot he's wanted by the authorities."

"Or maybe he's deaf." Ludvik slammed his fist into Severus' ear. The ex Potions Master went down, hard, hearing his jaw crack at the force of the punch. "You hear us, Snape? We asked if you got anything to say for yourself, you filthy little pissant."

Snape crawled back up to his knees, knowing if he rose anymore then he would be shot down. Ludvik seemed to notice that Severus wasn't as weak as he had looked, and so he flicked his wand at Severus' hands, which magically bound in front of him.

Maybe he was getting old. He was nearly forty, only four more months. Was forty old?

"Maybe cat's got his tongue." Tummos suggested.

"Or snake." Ludvik laughed cruelly at his not-so-witty joke.

"Look, I--hate to be impatient but I really have better things to do then sit here and listen to you two dunderheads prattle on. Are you gong to--take me back to the Ministry or not? Because if my punishment is an endless stream of idiotic, half-witted drivel--then I'd much rather die." Snape managed finally, his old wit flaring up from pure exhaustion, although his words were slightly slurred from the punch to the side of his head.

"Shut up." Snape wasn't sure which one of them had kicked him in the back but it sent him head-first into the concrete of the unfinished basement. His nose cracked on its cold, hard surface and his head hit hard. For a moment everything went white, his brain felt like mush (more so then it already had), but he refused to cry out. "If you don't have anything nice to say--then don't say anything at all." Tummos quipped.

Snape rolled onto his side, spitting out blood, he'd bit his tongue pretty hard and he was aware his nose was bleeding heavily. "Then perhaps the two of you should take your own advice. I'm--pretty sure your superiors are going to want me in one piece." He hated to admit it--he was scared. He didn't want to die. Not here. Not in this god-forsaken muggle dunghole. He had too much he hadn't done yet--and he needed to see this through to the end.

"In one piece?" Tummos asked. "What's the fun in that?"

"I'm sure if we told Tonner that you put up a fight he wouldn't mind if you lost a limb or two. How'd you like that? Why don't we give you a taste of your own medicine? Do to you what you did to Anner or Boyle."

"I didn't kill them." Snape spat out.

"We say you did. And who're they gong to believe? Us--or you?" Ludvik laughed, grabbing a handful of Snape's greasy hair and bringing him back to his knees, looking him right in the face. "You're nothing but a pathetic old man. An evil, pathetic, cowardly old man. I bet you liked killing Dumbledore. I'll bet you got off on seeing the old fart fall. Tumbled right over the tower, he did. Made a good mess on the castle grounds. You know--it took us four hours to find enough of him so we could piece it together for the funeral."

"Shut up." Snape growled. "Shut up, shut up!" He spat into Ludvik's smiling face, a mixture of spittle, dirt, and blood.

Angrily, Ludvik backhanded him. "Animal!" he yelled.

"Doesn't like to hear about the dirty things he's done, does he?" Tummos asked thoughtfully. "Thought you'd be proud to be the man who finally did the old coot in. Powerful wizard, that one. A bit on the frail side, but powerful. Did the Dark Lord a great service. And so I wonder--why is it you aren't with him? Why are you running?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." Snape got back to his knees a third time, his whole body groaning in protest, but he ignored it. He couldn't show weakness. Not now. "But I won't speak to you. I'll only talk to someone in charge, and please, as a courtesy, someone _competent_."

"Why you little piece of--" Tummos started, but Ludvik caught his arm.

"That's what he wants us to do. He wants to die before he can be interrogated. Doesn't want us to know his dirty little secrets."

"And how about _your _dirty little secrets," another, unfamiliar, feminine voice came. It was American, and it was powerful "Christov Ludvik." She finished. "You've got a damn fine record, a fine Auror, you are. But--maybe too good." There was the sound of a gun hammer being pulled back.

"Who the hell are you?" Tummos and Ludvik spun, trying to find the source of the voice. "_Lumos Maxima_!" Tummos cried, a bright light shone from the tip of his wand, illuminating the entire expanse of the cellar, but there was no one but the three of them. "Where are you? Show yourself!"

"Aaron Tummos. A pleasure to finally meet the man who killed Amelia Bones in person. I've heard so much about you."

Snape looked up at his captors in a dazed surprise. They were Death Eaters? No--that wasn't possible. Whoever this woman was--whatever this woman was--she was insane. He knew both of these men by reputation, and they were Aurors. Top of their class.

"I didn't kill Bones." Tummos exclaimed, a hint of panic in his voice. "Whoever you heard that from is a liar."

"Even so, it doesn't erase the fact." Another hammer was pulled back. "Tell me, Mr. Tummos, I bet you don't see many gunshot deaths in your department. Mostly magical deaths. Do you even know what a person looks like who is dieing because there's a bullet lodged in their gut?" a shot went off, ringing through the enclosed space, Ludvik went down with a yell of pain. Blood blossomed from his stomach and he rolled around, still moaning. "You see, the trick of it is--you don't shoot someone in the chest or the head, the chest it's too iffy and the head is too tricky, and if you do it right, too quick. If you really want someone dead you shoot them in the gut. It's effective. It ruptures the stomach and so the acids slowly seep into the bloodstream. And if you're really dead set on killing the victim," another gunshot, Ludvik screamed, a bloodcurdling scream, another bullet entering his abdomen. "You shoot their liver. That's were toxins are stored, those toxins are poisons. And now there's nothing, not magickal nor muggle that can save that man's life. He is, quite literally, poisoning himself to death. Slow, painful, efficient."

"Who are you, you--freak!" Tummos wheeled around, panicked. He started throwing curses; they ricochet off of the walls, Snape ducked to avoid them. Unfortunately Tummos wasn't so lucky. His own killing curse bounced off the opposite wall and hit him dead in the chest. In a flash of green light he fell, like a log, onto the floor, stiff and dead.

The woman clicked her tongue. Ludvik moaned in agony barely conscious.

"Who are you?" Snape demanded. "Have you come to take me too? Some kind of bounty hunter? You want the reward?" he asked.

"Seven million Galleons _is_ tempting." The woman admitted. "But, alas, no." an invisibility cloak was pulled free. The woman that stood beneath was standing on the opposite side of the cellar and, with Tummos' death his Lumos spell had died too. In the gloom Snape couldn't get a good view of her.

She strode across the room to where Ludvik was still clinging to life. Squatting down she looked him dead in the face. "Sorry, sweetheart, but someone had to do something about the two of you."

"You--you--you--" was all that Ludvik could mumble. His wand having rolled out of his hand so he couldn't cast at her. "Can't be--you're dead--can't be--" he drifted off.

"Mmmm." The woman said. "Not so much." And then she stood, pulling out her wand. "Get up." she said harshly, removing the binding spell.

"Who are you?" Snape asked, trying futilely to get to his feet. He slumped back against the wall, his strength draining from him. He felt like he was dying.

"_Get up_." she demanded, grabbing him by his upper arm and yanking him to his feet. With a strength he didn't realize he still had he grabbed her wrist, spinning her around and slammed her back against the wall. "_Lumos_." he hissed, Tummos' wand appearing in his hand.

The light shone over her face. It was dead set and unafraid. He balked, stepping back and nearly falling over. "No..." he whispered.

"You're pathetic." she growled. "Look at yourself, what are you planning to do now? Attack me? You could manage a light spell but do you really think that you could kill me?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"You--you're dead." he whispered, his voice shaking. "You can't be..."

She smiled, chuckling cruelly. "Can't be, can I?" she asked. "Look who you're talking to, sweetheart, I've always been a master of the impossible. Do you really think this is so outside the realm of possibilities that it could be categorized as out of the question?"

"You were killed, you disappeared--there was a funeral--" he said, the light his wand emitted faltering. He didn't even have the strength to keep the spell up.

She turned her back on him, obviously not afraid he would attack, and walked over to the far wall, switching on a dusty overhead light. "Did you really think that a measly wizard like Koor could've killed me? Your Master tried to kill me on more then one occasion and he sure as hell couldn't do it." she turned around to face him, her dark eyes flashing dangerously.

Snape collapsed against the wall behind him, shaking his head. "No, you died--they said you died--" he slumped down, not able even to stand anymore.

The woman crossed over to him, conjuring a glass of water. She squatted in front of him and lifted the glass to his lips. "Drink." She told him when the contents dribbled down his chin. He managed to take a gulp before beginning to cough. She pulled the glass away, a look of worry crossing her nearly flawless face. In fact, her only imperfection was a scar across her right eye, other then that she was an Aphrodite incarnate. Almost Amazonian in stature, strong, nearly six feet tall, long, dark hair braided into a hundred small braids, pulled up on the crown of her head. Her eyes were gray, one lighter then the other, a long, straight nose, although it was slightly hooked at the end, full, dark lips, straight jaw, and the rest of her looked as though it were built to kill.

When the ex Potions Master stopped coughing he looked up at her again, his eyes watering. "How?" he demanded.

"Dumbledore." She replied evenly.

"Dumbledore?" Snape asked, confused, his mind swirling, partially because of exhaustion, partially because this was the last person on the face of the planet that he ever thought that he would see again.

"I was too valuable." she told him, forcing him to drink some more water. "When Voldemort disappeared _I_ disappeared." she explained. "You see, he needed someone he could trust. Someone who shared his belief that we hadn't seen the last of His Eminence." Severus gave a start when she used her old nickname for the Dark Lord. "Someone who would make a difference in a final fight against him."

"You..." Severus whispered.

"That's right--me. He wanted a secret weapon. Someone that Voldemort wouldn't expect, someone that could turn the tide if it got to grim. Someone with--no connections." she paused, glancing downwards, a look of pain momentarily crossing her face. "And when you defected..."

"Jacquolyn..." Severus whispered.

"No." she held up her hand. "Listen to me. I know it's immensely difficult to ask you to shut your mouth and listen to someone else for a change, but do your best." she gave him a sharp look. "He approached me--"

"That must've been awkward." Snape interjected coldly.

"Look, do you want my help or would you rather I just leave you down here for whoever else is clever enough to find you?" She asked. Snape held up his hands in mock surrender. "He approached me, explained to me his belief that Voldemort hadn't been destroyed in his attempt on the Potter boy's life. He didn't have much convincing to do, I knew that someone like his Eminence wouldn't be destroyed so easily, and certainly not by the power of _love_." she spat out the word like poison. "The Ministry wasn't too keen on listening to his ravings. They rather liked the idea that the terror and mayhem were over. They always did have their heads too far up their asses." she shook her head. "So he asked me to place myself in suspended animation. There had been a lot of research into the subject done by one Minerva McGonnigal, and Dumbledore thought that I was the perfect candidate. So they staged my death, which was easy enough, as I'm sure you remember I was always out trying to get myself killed." she smiled mistily. "And they put me under."

"Listen, not that I don't find the story fascinating, but if the culmination is that you are here to apprehend me and take me in for questioning I'd rather skip this part. I appreciate your--assistance with those two, but please..."

"I'm not going to bring you in." She interrupted him.

"You're not?" he asked.

"No, I'm not." She said evenly. "You see, Dumbledore explained to me all about your change of heart once you thought I'd been killed by Koor." she told him. "He woke me up two weeks before you murdered him."

"If he told you about my defection then he must've told you--"

"About the Vow?" She asked him. "I know all about it, Severus. I know that you aren't true to your Master anymore. I know you're Dumbledore's man." she clicked her tongue. "Honestly, Severus, I'd've thought better of you then to have swapped one Master for another."

"I thought you'd been _killed_." Severus hissed.

"While the idea that I was the reason for your defection is flattering, I hardly think that it excuses the fact that you turned over Lily and James, that you _killed _for him." she said darkly. "You know--I protected you?"

"Protected me?" he repeated, his eyebrows shooting up. "Protected me from what?"

"I saw your name on the blackout lists two months before I was supposedly killed. You think that I wouldn't know that you'd turned? You never got over what your father did to you. What Black's group did to you. Your only option remaining was to destroy them. If you hadn't--you'd've gone mad." she told him evenly. "I found you, you know. I tracked you down, found where you were hiding, and I _protected _you. I made sure that the Aurors never _found _you. Made sure that you were _safe_. And all the time I knew you were killing for him. I knew you were involved in the massacre at Baton's Burrow, the raid on St. Catherine's, I know you killed Payton and Shavez, Catton, and Sparrow. I knew your handiwork the moment I saw it."

Severus closed his eyes at the list of names. "I didn't want to hurt anyone..."

"Yes you did. You loved hurting people. You turned out to be just like _him_." She hissed.

He gave a yell and jumped forward, surprising her, knocking her off of her feet and onto the floor beneath him. The wand was in his hand, pointed at her face. "_I'm nothing like him_." he hissed.

"No?" she asked. "No, maybe you're right. Maybe you _were _just a soldier. Maybe you _do _have a conscious. But don't deny that when you killed Payton you didn't feel liberated. All of the things that he did to you when you were in school. And when you turned over James and Lily--when they were killed--"

"You're right." Severus said, his face very close to Jacquolyn's. "Is that what you want to hear? You're right. I _liked _hurting them. I was young--and I was stupid--and I spent the rest of my _life _trying to make up for what I did. Doesn't that count for something?" he asked.

"No." She replied. "None of it does. If you think that you're buying your way out of hell--you're wrong. You're going to burn right along side your Master." her eyes gleamed, deadly.

"But you protected me. You knew what I was--and you protected me." Severus pointed out. "Does it kill you? That you paved my way towards their deaths? That your--_betrayal _at Hogwarts was what turned me?"

"My _betrayal _at Hogwarts was nothing more then your delusional fantasy. Remus was my friend, my _best _friend, you just wanted an excuse to go to him--so don't turn this on me." She said slowly.

"Are you trying to convince me--or yourself?" he asked, grabbing her right hand when it strayed towards her dropped wand. "Come on, Jacquolyn, tell me, do you really think that you had nothing to do with what I became?"

"You were his before he came to power, Severus, I only delayed the inevitable." She replied, straining against him, but his dead weight kept her in check. That, and his iron grip on her wrist, and the wand in her face. "Get off of me." she demanded.

"Why?" he asked. "Remind you of old times?"

"You're _sick_." She hissed.

"And you're a whore." he growled.

They stared at each other for a long time before they kissed. It wasn't clear who kissed who, it was more of a mutual movement, but their lips met and his wand was abandoned, his hands on her face. She wrapped her arms around his abdomen, rolling him onto his back violently. He took a sharp breath when his head hit the concrete, looking up at her. "You know." he accused.

"I know everything, Severus. I know that he ordered you to kill him. I know that he ordered you to remain what seemed like Voldemort's man. I know that without you Voldemort would've won this a long time ago. I know that you've been protecting Potter for all of these years and I know that it killed you to do what you had to do, and I know that you did it." she replied.

"Why did you protect me, sixteen years ago?" he asked.

"Because I never stopped loving you, Severus." She replied, rolling off of him and laying on her back on the dirty floor, their shoulders still touching. "I never will." she looked over at him.

He looked back, they stared for a long time. "You were right." he told her.

"That had to hurt." She said sarcastically.

He gave her a withering look. "You were right about my reasons for joining. It wasn't your fault."

Her hand found his, squeezing it gently. She sat up, remaining next to him, her eyes getting a far-off look in them. "I know." She replied quietly. "But it killed me--for years. I blamed myself. I knew you were a Death Eater before your name showed up on that list, Severus. It was like as soon as Voldemort showed up a voice in my head said 'ah, that's what Severus was waiting for.'" he sat up, studying her profile, but not interrupting. "You know it was almost a sick fascination, tallying your kills. At first I thought that it was just a coincidence when I found Peyton with the Crustecio on him." Severus winced, glancing downwards, unwanted images assaulting his memory. _The screams..._ "It was your crowning achievement in pain. All of your memories, all of the tortures you went through as a child, manifested in a spell. They said that it was Voldemort who created it, but I knew it wasn't him." she shook her head. "I knew it was yours." she glanced over at him.

"I hate that spell." he whispered.

"I know." She replied. "How couldn't you? You had to be thinking about _him _when you made it." she sighed, looking away. "But it wasn't you that did the Longbottoms, was it?"

"No, that was LeStrange and Crouch." Snape replied quickly.

"I thought so. You reserved the Crustecio for anyone who hurt you in the past. You never even knew the Longbottoms." she sighed, looking downwards, there was a long silence.

"What--" he began.

"I forgive you." She interrupted him.

He froze, staring at her. "What?" he asked.

She looked at him. "I forgive you." she repeated. "It doesn't mean anything--but I still forgive you."

"You're wrong." Severus said slowly. "It means everything." he leaned into her, but she pulled away, standing up.

"Do you think that you can walk?" She asked.

Severus slowly rose to his feet, wincing in pain. "I can manage."

"Good." she looked over at him. "The Vow falls to me." She told him. "I am also the Secret Keeper and the only person in this fucked-up world that knows that you work for the Order." she caught herself almost saying that she was the only one who knew he was innocent, but she couldn't bring herself to use the word. "So don't think that you're free."

Severus looked at her and replied emotionlessly "I'm never free."

She studied him for a moment. "We have to leave. Sooner or later someone's going to come looking for those two--and when they do--it won't be pretty." she looked back at Tummos and Ludvick.

"They were Death Eaters?" Severus asked. "Why were they after me?"

"You're gaining too much power in the eyes of Voldemort's Army. You're the Captain. The Captain always has to deal with a few mutineers." she smiled ironically. "Besides, it's not as though you are winning any popularity contests. There are still some who would doubt your loyalty."

"Bellatrix LeStrange." Severus replied.

"And Bellatrix LeStrange is a very convincing woman." she glanced down at the two dead Death Eaters. "Lets leave, the smell is starting to gnaw at me." she turned her nose up at the sour smell of blood and death.

"Where?" Severus asked. She looked over at him. "Home." she replied.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Wedding Warning**

Harry yawned, scratching his head and looking around Ron's room, making sure that he hadn't forgotten anything. He even checked under the bed, but found nothing. Satisfied that he'd packed everything he locked his trunk and spelled it to float after him. He left the room, walking down the steps to the main room. There were people everywhere, Charlie waved to him from the opposite side of the room. He was sitting with Hermione and Nadia on the sofa, their packed belongings with them.

Harry walked over, depositing his trunk among their things, and flopped down on the chair across from them. "Alright, Harry?" Charlie asked with a grin, slapping Harry on the shoulder hard enough to jolt him. Charlie obviously didn't know his own strength.

"Yea." Harry replied. "It's just--bothering me, you know? Not even the Burrow is safe anymore." he looked down at his hands. "If Jack hadn't shown up--"

"Ah, yes, the infamous Jack, I still haven't met her." He looked around the room as though he expected her to pop out of one of the walls.

"Haven't seen her?" Hermione echoed him. "I wonder where she's gone to." she chewed on her lower lip.

"Maybe she's on Order business." Ron piped up, walking over to join their little group.

"Dunno." Harry shook his head. "I think that we would've heard something. It's not like she's exactly covert or anything."

"Fair enough." Ron nodded.

"Besides," Hermione pointed out in her superior tone, the kind that she used whenever she was "stating the obvious" in her opinion. "It's not as though she's anonymous. She couldn't exactly be going undercover, now could she? You saw the way the Death Eaters reacted to her."

Harry shrugged, looking at Ron who shrugged back. "Ah, well, I just hoped to meet the girl who killed Shoupe."

"Shoupe?" Harry asked. "Whose that, then?"

"He was a dark wizard, real powerful-like. Used to be the right-hand of You-Know-Who. Almost as bad as. Story goes that Jack met up with him in Scotland and they had some sort of an 'epic battle,' he nearly killed her, he did. Anyway, a couple of hours and about 5,000 pounds collateral later she took his head off with a sword."

"A sword?" Hermione repeated.

"Yea, sword of Gryffindor or something." Charlie told them.

"You mean the one that I pulled out of the sorting hat?" Harry sat forward. "How would she've gotten it."

"Probably same way you did, Harry." Hermione pointed out. "You saw how Fawkes reacted to her. He probably got her the sorting hat too."

"So then why put it back afterwards?" Ron asked thoughtfully. "Powerful thing, that sword, took out a Basilisk like butter, why would Jack put it back in the hat."

"Probably for someone else to be able to use it." Hermione reasoned. "If she hadn't then Fawkes couldn't've brought it to you when you needed it."

"Guess." Harry nodded slowly.

"Oy, what you all moping on about?" George called, trotting over to them.

"Looks like a symposium over here. Look, you've even got the 'Thinking Man.'" He clapped Harry on the shoulder, who had been propped up by his arm on his knee, which he promptly dropped embarrassedly.

"We're just talking about Jack." Hermione explained.

"Oooh, _Jack_…" George said in a sappy voice.

"She's _soooo _purdy." Fred said in the same voice. "I wonder what she'd be like, then."

"She's a fighter, that one." George pointed out.

"Oh, will you two stop it." Hermione said imperiously. "That is quite inappropriate. What would Ms. Avvor say if she knew you were talking about her like that?"

"Thanks?" George suggested. His brother sniggered and they both tromped back to whatever they were doing.

"Alright, then?" Mrs. Weasley hustled up. "We all ready? Let's get going."

"How're we going to get there?" Ron asked. "It's not as though the lot of us could fly on brooms. It's the middle of the day and there's a whole load of people. We'd be seen."

"Alaster has been kind enough to provide a portkey. It'll take us to just outside of the city, after that, I'm afraid, we'll need to walk."

"_All _of us?" Ron asked, shocked. "The Muggles are _bound _to notice."

"Not all of us are going right now." Mrs. Weasley explained. "It'll be you, Harry, Hermione, your father, Moody, Remus and I." she explained. "The others will come in increments of thirty minutes."

"Still, that's a lot of people." Ron grouced.

"We'll make do. It'll only be a mile walk anyway."

"A mile? And we have to _carry _our trunks?" Ron exclaimed.

"Yes, we'll carry our trunks. We couldn't get cars from the Ministry since they still don't approve of the Order, but we have to make do." he smoothed her dress. "Alright, then, lets get going."

III

Twenty minutes later the lot of them were lugging their trunks through the streets of London. They got some weird looks, although Mr. Weasley had managed to nab them a few trollies. Harry had pointed out that it would look even stranger, them dragging trollys from the railway, but he'd said that it was better then carrying them.

"Here we are." Mr. Weasley said, looking up at the dingy row of townhouses. "Now then, shall we?" they started towards the house that materialized between two others. Unlocking the door they all hurried inside, assaulted by the smell of dust and mold. Apparently their year away hadn't done the house wonders.

"Home sweet home." Ron whispered, looking over at Harry. "Thank god we've only got a week here before school." Harry nodded in agreement.

"Here's the room asignments…" Mrs. Weasley started.

"_Room assignments_?" Ron repeated.

"We haven't got enough rooms for all of the Order, and we want to keep them all here, so we're going to be tripling up. Harry, you're with Ron and Shaklebolt." Harry and Ron exchanged a look. It could've been worse, but still. "Hermione, you'll be sharing a room with Jack and Ginny." Hermione looked at her two friends desperately. They shrugged. (Ron didn't understand how she could be upset, sharing a room with Jack) "Remus, you'll be with Alaster and Charlie." she informed them. "Luna will be bunking with Tonks and Melony, and the rest will be worked out upon arrival.

"I _can't _believe I'm going to have to share a room with _her._" Hermione grumbled to her friends. "Can you imagine?"

"Yea." Ron smiled dreamily, Hermione elbowed him. "What, it's better then having to share with Shacklebolt. He'll probably be up all night sharpening his wand or something like that." he rolled his eyes.

"But _still_!" Hermione exclaimed. "I heard Remus say she liked to drink too much." she shook her head.

"Oh, will you look at this place! It needs a good dusting." Mrs. Weasley fretted. "We leave for a year and it's just as bad as when we found it." She sighed, shaking her head. "Oh, very well, we'll have to clean. Go put your things in your rooms and lets get started."

"Mum, we only just got here!" Ron complained.

"Best not argue with her, boy." Moody said with a smile, patting Ron's shoulder. "Now go put your things away."

"You too, Alaster." Mrs. Weasley said, her strange ability to look down on a man a foot taller then her in motion.

Moody sighed. "No rest for the wicked." And began to tromp on the stairs.

Harry and Ron went to their room, the same one that they'd occupied last year. Harry couldn't help but look down the hall at where Sirius' room had been, remembering him in here with Buckbeak. "C'mon, Harry." Ron said, putting an arm around his friend's shoulders and steering him away. "Lets get unpacked before mum develops an aneurism." he glanced down at the door Harry had, shaking his head sadly.

Ten minutes later they were all down receiving their cleaning assignments. Ron, Harry and Hermione were assigned the living room and given dust cloths. When Ron had asked why they couldn't magic the dust away Mrs. Weasley had explained that nothing was as good as a good rag and some elbow grease.

They began to polish the mantle and sweep away the dust on the couch. "Can you imagine this?" Ron piped up. "You-Know-Who is out there planning who-knows-what and we're in here _dusting_." he complained.

"Oh suck it up, Ron." Hermione said, sneezing from a billow of dust as she tried to clean the rug. "Id could be worse." she said, her nose clogged.

"Yea, how?" Ron asked.

"Kreacher could still be alive." She pointed out.

They agreed on this mutually and for about five minutes they worked in cheerful silence.

"So this is where the git was raised. Explains a few things." Jack's voice came. She was standing in the doorway, a backpack on her back, looking around, Remus standing beside her. "Like the smell." she commented.

"Jack, just lay off Sirius, alright?" Lupin glanced over at Harry. "The boy's just lost his godfather a year ago. He's not ready to hear about his adolescence." he said in a voice only Jack could hear.

Jack sighed, looking over at Remus. "For you, fine." she sighed. "Well lets get this fucked up Gilligan's Island minus one habitable, shall we?"

"Gilligan's Island?" Remus repeated, reaching for the reference.

"Well we've got Gilligan," she indicated Ron, "Skipper too," she nodded towards Moody who had stepped out of the kitchen, "the millionaire would've been Albus, and his wife," she stepped aside, letting McGonagall step in. "The movie star," she indicated Harry "(by fame of course, not looks)" she added at Remus' confused face, "The Proessor," she pointed at Remus "And Mary-Anne." she indicated herself. "Here on Gilligan's Island." she sang the last bit, throwing her bag on the uncleaned sofa, bringing up a bit of dust. "Bit dirty, isn't it?"

"We're cleaning." Hermione said dryly. "You want to help?"

"Not especially." she replied evenly. "But when duty calls." She picked up a dust rag dramatically "one must answer."

III

The next day dawned cold and dark. They were woken up at five a.m. by the pounding on the door of Mrs. Weasley. "Is it time already?" Ron complained, rolling over on the floor (he and Harry had agreed to take turns using the second bed in the room, deciding it was a bit poncy to share it and not willing to risk asking Shacklebolt alternate his).

"Yup." Harry stood up, walking over to the bathroom and getting some water.

"Wake me up when it's over." Ron flopped back down, wincing at the hardness of the wooden floor. "Ow." he complained.

"Your brother is getting married. I would think that you would be looking forward to this." Shacklebolt commented, already half-dressed in his dress robes.

"Not a big ceremony person." Ron rubbed his injured shoulder. "Besides, he'll be just as married at 2 p.m. as he will be this morning."

"Up, up!" Mrs. Weasley's voice shrilled, she was obviously on edge. "I won't have us be late." and with that she walked away.

"Bloody hell, you'd think it was important or something." Ron grumbled.

III

Harry yawned sleepily, the sun had barely risen over the horizon and the air was still wet with dew. He'd had another dream last night, a bad one, and hadn't been able to get back to sleep afterwards. When 5 a.m. had rolled around and Mrs. Weasley had come knocking at their door he'd already been laying in the dark for three hours.

He wondered if he'd ever be able to get a full night's sleep again.

And now they were all gathered in a clearing in the middle of the woods behind the Burrow dressed in their finest robes. Ron was tugging at his at the moment nervously. "Do I look alright?" he asked.

"You look _fine_, Ronald. You looked fine five minutes ago and you're going to look fine when you ask us again in five minutes." Hermione sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly. It looked like she hadn't slept much the night before either.

Harry saw Ron eyeing Hermione and knew that it wasn't just out of annoyance. Hermione had once again grown prettier over the summer. Her hair had turned an attractive shade of dirty blond, and she'd obviously found some sort of treatment for it so that it now hung down her back neatly. It was still a bit wild, only now it looked almost intended to be. Her face had cleared up and she'd grown some more curves, neatly displayed beneath a fitted robe set which she'd explained her parents had paid to have custom made. It seemed her father had opened a private practice over the summer and they were far more financially stable.

"So what's going to happen?" Harry asked.

"It's all so very romantic." Luna glided up behind them. "Don't you think?" she looked around. "I went to my cousin Oma's wedding last year, it was a bit more fancy then this, but I think this is nicer. More intimate."

"Yea, whatever." Ron mumbled. "Look, Harry, all you need to remember is to think about the people you love, alright?" he said. "It isn't hard. If it were people wouldn't be getting married so often."

"Honestly, Ronald, you are so dull." Hermione sniffed, looking over at where Charley stood chatting with the woman he'd brought from Romania. It was rather obvious that she liked the man, Harry could understand why. Charley was nice, funny, and intelligent, he just hoped that Hermione wouldn't get her heart broken. He was, after all, **twenty-five**, he would hardly start dating a seventeen year old.

"What?" Ron asked angrily, tugging at the lapels of his robes. "I hate these things. They're so itchy." he complained.

"Suck it up, little bro." George grinned, appearing behind him.

"Oy, Harry, how's it hanging?" Fred grinned identically at Harry.

"Alright, I s'pose." Harry replied uncertainly.

"We just got here." George told them. "It's _soooooo _romantic, isn't it?" he said in a sappy voice, not unlike Luna's.

"Yea, love is in the air. I think I'm going to be sick." Fred stuck his finger down his throat and gagged. "Speaking of which, want any more **vomit pills**?" he held out his hand towards the three. "Great for getting out of class."

"_No _thank you." Hermione crossed her arms.

"Oy, is that you Herms'?" George asked.

"Naw, couldn't be, it's a woman." Fred replied, peering at Hermione.

"Ha ha." Hermione said dryly, although she blushed a slight shade of pink. "You think you're so funny."

"Oh…" Ron's awed voice cut through the crowd, his eyes on the entrance of the field which was marked by a small overhang of white wicker laced in pink flowers.

The group all turned to watch Remus enter with a very imposing, very breathtaking Jack. She had elected not to wear robes, even though it'd been explicitly stated in the invitation (Harry got the distinct impression she hadn't done it just because it _was _required). Instead she'd worn a white Greek-style dress with no sleeves. It wrapped around her bust line and tapered at the waist only to continue down her body, hugging her thighs and ended at her ankles. There was a slit up the back halfway up her calves, and a gold trim around the hem and top. Around her arms were matching armlets, gold, and also greek-style. Her hair was pulled up on the crown of her head, curletts spilling over her forehead. "Bloody hell." Ron whispered, his eyes wide.

"Ronald!" Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

"What? She looks like a bloody Amazon!" he hissed. "Absolutely _gorgeous _that one."

"Fred and I got a poll. Fred reckons that she's Remus' girl, I reckon that she isn't." George told them. "Want in?"

"I don't think that's all that they're betting on." Ron whispered to Harry with a devious smile, watching his older brothers eye Jack like a piece of meat. "Hell, if I thought _I _had a chance."

"Which you do _not_." Hermione reminded him before huffing off in search of Ginny.

"What's wrong with her?" Ron asked. Harry gave him a dry look. "What?"

"Well isn't it obvious?" Fred slung an arm around Ron.

"What's obvious?" Ron asked.

"The girl's got the eye on you." George winked heartily.

"What? No she hasn't--" Ron started, but Charley sidled up and interrupted him.

"Harry!" he clasped Harry's hand in a bone-crushing shake. "How are you?"

"Uh, fine." Harry rubbed his hand. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

A cloud passed over Charley's cheerful face, but he wiped it away immediately. "Looking forward to your last year at hoggy-warty Hogwarts?"

"Teach us something _please_!" Fred and George sang together (to different tunes).

"I guess so." Harry replied.

"_I'm _looking forward to getting _out _of there!" Ron piped in. "Charley, Nadia, she's Romanian, right?"

"Yea." Charley agreed.

"She's not--_Gyp-o_--is she?" Ron asked.

"Ron!" Charley punched Ron's shoulder, not at all gently.

"Ow, what? Is she?" Ron asked.

"What's Gyp-o?" Harry asked curiously.

"It's a derogatory term for a Gypsy, which she _does _happen to be." Charley replied. "It's used by _small minded prigs _who want to get their arses beaten." he gave Ron a warning glance.

"Better not let mum know." Fred told his older brother. "She'll throw a right fit, having a Gypsy in the house."

"Me, I don't mind so much." George replied. "Interesting people, Gypsies. Got a few ideas for some of our merchandise from them. Them, they don't trust anyone. They're good for hiding charms and warding."

"So Gypsies are witches and wizards?" Harry asked curiously, looking over at the short, dark haired, olive-toned woman.

"Naw, they're more like half-wizards." Ron told him. "They got magic, but it isn't strong. It's more belief then anything else. Got a lot of superstitions, don't like outsiders. Oh, they're pleasant enough, but they'll steal the chair out from under you."

"Ron." Charley growled warningly. "Don't let me hear that from you again." he looked at Harry. "Gypsies _are _witches and wizards, but not in the way you think of them. Their power comes from faith. They can't do any of the big stuff, like transformation of incantation, but they're bloody fantastic at potions and charms. Some of the best potion-masters in the _world _are Gypsies. A lot of wizards don't like them much," he glanced at Ron sharply, "because they're very protective and very poor. But more then that it's because they operate in the Muggle world. They aren't afraid to sell a Muggle a love-potion or a warding spell for the right amount of money. Officially they are not part of the Ministry or any recognized form of Wizarding government. However, the Ministry isn't afraid to use them if they need them--and if they'll consent." Ron snorted, earning him another sharp glance. "But they don't much like us."

"What about her?" he looked over at the Gypsy woman, who was now standing alone, Moody having left.

"She's a special case." Charley blushed a little. "She works with the dragon-studiers up in Romania. She's a guide, she knows where they hide. They know exactly where the nests are because they have to avoid setting up camp in their hunting grounds. That, and, they have some sort of a bond with the dragons. Don't ask me what, but some of the women--they can even _talk _to them."

Ron whistled. "Didn't know that."

"They're not so bad, once they trust you." Charley told him. "You should come over and talk to her when the ceremony's done." he offered.

"Sure, whatever." Ron shrugged.

Hermione showed back up a moment later. "It's about to start." She said, obviously excited.

An old wizard in light blue robes entered through the opening and crossed over to where a small, stone alter was set up, on it lay a wand, a knife, and a golden chalice. "Will everyone please form a circle." he called.

The guests began to spread out around the alter, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna, Fred and George all kept together, Charley crossed back to where Nadia stood.

There was a sudden mummer as Ginny entered. She wore all white, hair done up in a rather attractive way and studded with flowers. She held two ropes in her hands and blushed slightly when she realized that everyone thought she looked pretty. Harry tried not to. She crossed to stand beside the Presiding Wizard and waited silently.

A moment later the bride and groom entered. Fleur wore a long, pale green sheet dress, her silvery hair was free around her shoulders, a garland of white flowers around her head. She held Bill's hand, their intertwined fingers just above their shoulders. George wore robes of red, his hair, usually back in a ponytail was free, and around his head was a garland of leaves. There was a muted clapping from all the guests and Fluer nearly fawned. She was smiling so wide that her face was in danger of splitting, and there were tears in her eyes.

They walked through the circle and knelt before the alter, bowing their heads to the wizard. The old man took the wreathes off of their heads and lay them on the alter, taking the knife and cutting a small lock of hair from each of their heads. He lay the two wreathes next to each other, their circumferences barely overlapping to make a venn-diagram shape, he placed the hair in the space of the overlaying part. The couple moved to kneel facing one another, taking each other's hands. "Oh joyous day we are here together to witness this bonding of two young souls, for two are far more powerful then one. May your lives be filled with happiness and no evil befall you in your journey through life and death." he took the two lengths of rope from Ginny. "These cords represent your life, two, and yet equal. With these you are bound to the mortal realm, apart, separate, two entities." He bound Fleur's hands with the green rope. "Green, the color of life, of femininity, of reproduction, and of growth." he bound Bill's hands with the red cord. "Red, the color of passion, strength, masculinity, and destruction. There can be no life without destruction. There can be no destruction without there first be life to destroy. You are bound by mortal bodies and sexual constraints."

Harry watched, very interested. He'd never seen a ceremony quite like this. It was beautiful and sort of scary at the same time. What did he mean that they were "bound as two separate entities _now_?" Did Wizarding Marriage mean that you became _one _person? Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sure fought enough to make it seem that way. He looked over at them, Mrs. Weasley was holding onto her husbands arm, silent tears falling down her face, a huge, silly smile on her face.

"Fleur DeLacour, do you, on this day of festivity and rejoicing, take this man, Bill Weasley, to be with you for all of your days? To become one, to create life, and to die?" he asked.

"I do." Fleur replied, her voice shaking, a tear streaking down her cheek.

"And do you, Bill Weasley, on this day of festivity and rejoicing, take this woman, Fleur DeLacour, to be with you for all of your days? To become one, to create life, and to die?" he asked.

"I do." Bill replied.

"So be it." the wizard tapped the ropes with his wand, instantly the loose ends connected with each other, red to green, forming only one cord. "Please raise your wands." he addressed the crowd. Everyone pulled out their wands and pointed them upwards. "Come to us, loved ones and ancestors. Those who came before, those who have passed during life. Come and sanctify this union of souls. Come and join this man and this woman. Join their souls as one." he called, raising his own wand. Harry closed his eyes, trying to think about the people that he loved that had died. His parents, Sirius, even Dumbledore.

For a moment nothing happened, Harry looked around curiously. Then, suddenly, a faint golden glow started spreading from his, and everyone else's wands simultaneously. The glow grew and surrounded them in a sort of golden barrier, everything shone and sparkled. There was a faint red glow all around Bill, and a Green one around Fleur, the two colors began to seep from their skin down through their connected hands.

A movement caught Harry's attention. He looked over at the barrier wall and realized that there were shadowy figures in it. They really _had _called their ancestors. He instantly began searching for his parents. For Sirius. For Dumbledore. But the shadows were too vague to make out.

"Drink from this cup, it represents life, it represents rebirth. It represents a new beginning." he held the cup to Fleur's lips, she drank, and then to Bills, who followed suit. They began to glow with a white light, bathing them until they shown brilliantly.

Suddenly there was a crack and the crowd gasped, a figure broke free of the barrier, throwing himself into the circle. Harry looked back at Fleur and Bill, who were blissfully unaware, obviously sharing some sort of a moment.

The figure began to solidify, Harry's throat hitched in his throat. It was Dumbledore! He looked around at the assembled group. He was speaking! Or at least his lips were moving, but the sound was almost inaudible. He shouted again, this time loud enough so that everyone could hear the whisper. "Trust the heirs! Trust the heirs!" he yelled.

There was another crack and the barrier fell, and with it Dumbledore's image and the white light around Fleur and Bill.

Everyone in the circle was breathless and shocked.

"You--you are now one." The Presiding Wizard gasped, obviously trying to finish the ceremony. "You are now married, kiss your bride." he indicated.

Bill leaned forward and kissed Fleur, squeezing her hands gently. When they broke they both stood and raised their arms, grinning.

But there was only silence.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The Heirs

"I can't believe zis!" Fleur fumed. "At _my _wedding!"

"It was _obviously _important." Bill rubbed his wife's arm soothingly. "He only had this one chance to convey a message, we should be thankful that we gave him this opportunity."

"What do you think it means?" Ron whispered to his four friends (including Luna).

"I dunno, 'trust the heir'?" Harry repeated. "He can't be talking about the heir to Slytherin, that'd be Voldemort." he chewed on his thumb. "What other heirs do we know?"

"It doesn't _have _to be an heir to a Hogwarts house, you know." Hermione spoke up. "For all we know he could've told us to trust the heir to some fortune or the heir to a will." she shrugged.

"Don't you think he would've been a little more specific? I mean what other kind of heir would he have assumed that we would understand?" Ron pointed out.

"He was trying to say something before we could hear him. Maybe he didn't realize that we couldn't hear him." Hermione pointed out.

"Oh, I don't know. I think that Dumbledore would've thought of that." Luna spoke up. "I think he was purposefully vague. And he didn't say 'trust the heir,' he said 'trust the heir_s_.' Plural."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.

"That's what I heard." Hermione replied. "You don't think that he wants us to go and find all the heirs to all of the houses, do you?" she asked.

"Jumping on the House Heir bandwagon, are you?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well Luna and Harry _do _have a point. I mean Dumbledore must've known that he wouldn't be able to say much and the only heirs that we're familiar with are the house heirs. I think that he wants us to find the other ones."

"Can't be easy, tracking down bloodlines from hundreds of years ago." Ron said thoughtfully.

"I don't think we should worry about it too much." Luna replied. "I think that they'll come to us. They're a part of this too, after all. All we have to do is watch for them. I want punch." and with that she floated off towards the refreshment stand.

"Odd one, that." Ron commented.

"She's always odd." Hermione replied. "But she isn't often wrong."

"Nirgles." Ron pointed out dryly.

Hermione glared at him.

"Hello there!" Hagrid sidled up. "I missed all the festivities, but I was able to make it to the reception. How was it?"

"Dumbledore showed up." Harry said flatly.

"So I've heard." A troubled look crossed Hagrid's face. "The Heirs, eh?"

"You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" Harry asked, searching his friend's eyes. He could always tell if Hagrid knew more then he was telling.

"Well, I'll tell you this: I know that the Gryffindor bloodline still exists. Some people say that Dumbledore was the last of it, but no one really knows for sure. It was a long time ago, wasn't it?"

"Dumbledore was the Heir of Gryffindor?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide.

"Now I ain't saying anything for sure. Nobody really knows. It was just a rumor. I asked Dumbledore about it once, he just gave me an odd look, like he did, and offered me a sniggit." he sniffed. "I sure do miss his sniggits." and with that Hagrid walked away, dabbing his eyes with his handkerchief.

"But Dumbledore didn't have any children, did he?" Ron asked thoughtfully. "I mean with him gone and all, and his brother locked up, who else could be the heir?"

"I dunno." Harry shook his head.

"Oh look at the kiddies." Jack grinned, walking up, a drink in her hand, obviously a little tipsy. "Not on with the dancing, huh?" she looked out at the dance floor, which was currently occupied by Shaklebolt apparently trying to show Moody the electric slide, but the old wizard wasn't having any of it.

"No." Ron said, embarrassed. "I--I don't dance."

"Pity." she looked at Hermione and winked, Hermione turned pink. "So, what do you make of all of this heir crap?"

"Don't know, we were just talking about it." Ron told her eagerly. "Best we can figure it's Dumbledore's kid, since he's the heir of Gryffindor."

"Is he." Jack raised an eyebrow. "So "The Search For the Missing Heirs," sounds like a plot to a bad TV show." she shook her head. "Good luck with that, try not to step on any booby traps. It never goes well. And don't pick up the monkey statue without finding something to replace it with. And watch the boulder, alright?" and with that she walked off. "Remmy!" She grinned.

"Honestly, getting so drunk at a reception." Hermione clicked her tongue.

"Oh will you lay off of her? All you've done since you've met her is nag at her. I'm starting to think that you're jealous." Ron looked at her with a twinkle in his eye.

"_Jealous_? Of what? Her--her--her body? Her talent? Her--_anything_? Ha!" she crossed her arms.

Harry looked across the room, seeing Ginny standing with Luna, she looked away as quickly as Harry's eyes fell on her. "Go and ask her to dance." Ron urged him.

"Ron." Harry said, his voice taking on Charley's warning tone.

"What, come on, you don't need to keep punishing yourself." Ron pointed out.

"Don't." Harry told him.

"What, you going to keep yourself miserable? What good'll that do. It just means you'll be mighty annoyed when you face You-Know-Who, it isn't going to help any."

"Ron!" Harry barked. "Whatever, sorry, I'm leaving." he turned and marched out of the Reception Hall, which happened to be a tent much like the one they'd used at the Tri Wizard's Tournament. Mr. Weasley had splurged and rented it for the day, having received a raise at the Ministry.

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets. There was just too much going on right now. He wished that he could at least pretend, for one day, that he was just a normal teenage boy going back for his last year of school. That his greatest worry was grades and his future. He wished he wasn't afraid—all the time. He wished that he didn't jump at shadows and pull his wand at stray cats.

In his entire life this was the first time, the _only _time that Harry wished that he was just a normal boy. A muggle boy. Not a wizard. Not the Boy who lived…and not the only man for the job.

The tent sat in the middle of the field that the wedding had taken place in. Harry stalked off towards the trees, only to see a shadow race out of sight. "Hey!" he called, running after it at top speed.

The shadow was a lot faster then him, but Harry was determined. He chased it through the dark woods, it seemed like whoever it was was trying their best to keep out of the light. Who could it be?

Suddenly, without warning, Harry felt his foot hitch beneath him. With a cry of pain he went down, bashing his head against a root. His vision went white and then black.

The next thing he felt were small, cool hands on his face. There was a sharp burst of pain as he felt his foot being pulled free of whatever it was trapped under, and then there was a soothing feeling running up his leg. "Ugg…" he mumbled, opening his eyes slowly.

There was a woman kneeling next to him, she didn't realize that he was awake. What was she doing? She had her mouth on his calf! She was--was she--biting him? "Hey!" he yelled, pulling his leg away sharply, there was the feeling of tearing flesh and he winced, but ignored it and scooted back. "What the hell are you doing? Who are you?"

The woman looked up at him, her eyes were large and black, no pupils, her skin pale white, he could see blue veins beneath the surface, her lips were pulled back against her teeth, exposing vampyric canines, blood dripping down her chin in a most unattractive way. She wore a heavy, black cape, strands of long, dark hair falling in her eyes.

"I mean you no harm." The woman told him, Harry believed her. "When I bite you it releases a narcotic substance natural to my kind. I have no magic and so could not mend your ankle that way. All I could do was temporarily relieve the pain."

"Oh." Harry said dumbly, forcing himself to look away from those hypnotizing eyes. "No, what?" he started to look back up at her, but remembered what he'd heard about vampires in class: if you looked into their eyes they could mess with your perceptions. "Who are you?" Harry'd been plagued by shadows the entire Summer, for a moment a crazy thought occurred to him…maybe he hadn't been paranoid. Maybe he _was _being watched. "Why have you been following me? Do you work for Voldemort?"

"I do not work for He who you Name. I work for no one. I am merely satisfying a debt." the woman told him.

Harry, still not looking at her, asked, "whose debt?"

"Sirius Black." there was a rustling sound.

Harry's eyes snapped up when he heard his Godfather's name, but the woman was gone. She wasn't running, she wasn't flying, she was just_gone_. "Sirius…" Harry repeated. Did he believe her? He didn't know.

III

He made it back to the tent after walking around in circles through the forest for what seemed like forever. He knew he looked like a mess, his robes were dirty and torn and he was limping. He was fairly certain that, at the moment, there was more dirt on his face then face.

"Harry, what happened? Where were you?" Hermione rushed to him as soon as he entered. Ginny even came over, a worried look on her face, breaking her tradition of ignoring him.

"I fell." Harry said flatly.

"Into what, a mud pit?" Ron asked. "Jeeze, Harry, you look like you just ran a mile into a stone wall." he shook his head. "Better get cleaned up before mum sees you. She'll throw a fit." he looked over to where his mother was sitting and talking to Fleur and Bill. "Speaking of fits--Fleur can't seem to stop complaining about Dumbledore showing up--like it wasn't _important_." he rolled his eyes.

"I know a good cleaning charm." Hermione piped up. "Outside, all of you." she shooed them out of the nice, clean surroundings which Harry was currently tracking mud all over. "Essperimento." she flicked her wand at Harry, instantly the dirt was swept off of him, but his robes were still torn. "Now why don't you tell us what really happened." She put her hands on her hips.

Harry sighed, pausing before deciding that it was better to tell them everything. He explained about the shadow he'd been seeing all year and about the woman he'd met.

"A debt?" Ron asked, his eyes alight with intrigue. "To Sirius?"

"Yea, don't know exactly what she meant." Harry admitted. "And then she just sorta disappeared."

Hermione was chewing her lower lip, looking at Harry's leg. The bite mark was gone but there were slight teeth depressions. "And the pain was gone?" she asked. "Once she bit you?"

"Yea." Harry told her.

"She's a vampire. Definitely a vampire. It explains why she was able to hide so long and move so fast when you were running after her." she took a step towards Harry, examining him. "Do you feel any different? Any burning sensation? How are your eyes?"

"Fine." Harry took a step back uncomfortably. "I'm fine, I don't think she was trying to hurt me."

"I very much doubt that her intentions were entirely pure, Harry, she is after all, a basely evil creature." Hermione told him.

"I wonder if she and Sirius knew each other." Ginny murmured. "Maybe they were lovers." she smiled wistfully.

"What Sirius has done is his own business, Ginny, I don't really think it's our place to guess…" Hermione started.

"Not our place?" Ron exclaimed. "She's been following Harry around all year to "satisfy a debt," I think that it _is _our business, or at least it's Harry's." he turned back to his friend. "So, was she hot?"

"Honestly, Ronald, Harry just got bitten by a vampire and all you can ask is if she was hot?" Hermione put her hands on her hips. "Grow up." she turned back to Harry. "I really think that we should tell someone, maybe McGonnigall, this woman could've done something to you while you were passed out…" Ron gave a start, laughing heartily. "Oh, Ron, you know what I meant…" she blushed furiously. "I just mean…"

"No." Harry said sharply. "I don't want to tell anyone. I'm fine. I don't need any help."

Hermione looked at him scrutinizing. "Alright, but I'm going to keep an eye on you. You tell me if you feel anything strange. Even if it's good, okay?"

"Deal." Harry nodded shortly.

They walked back into the tent. Ron leaned over Harry's shoulder. "_Was_ she hot?" he whispered.

III

After the wedding things seemed to calm down a little. Ron suggested that it was just not having the added stress of Fleur around, which Hermione readily agreed to. They made progress with recleaning the Black House, a chore which Harry usually made make him have to separate from Ron and Hermione ("to get it done faster" he'd tell them). He just couldn't stand listening to them go on and on about useless things and bicker over spilt milk. They were like an old married couple. An old married couple who didn't realize that there was a war on.

He was cleaning a particularly messy spot by the umbrella stand when the door opened, nearly knocking into him. Harry looked up, blinking the dust out of his eyes, which he was fairly certain that he hadn't gotten all out when he saw who was standing looking down at him. "Percy?" Harry asked.

"Uh, hello, Harry." Percy said awkwardly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to knock you over." he wiped some of the dust off of Harry's shoulder. "It's very good to see you again."

"You git." Ron's voice came. Percy turned around to look at his younger brother, surprised. "What're you trying to do, kiss his arse now that you people know he was right all along?" he accused. "That's sick. You think you can march in here and have everything okay?"

"Oy, Percy McWeaslekins." Jack bounded down the stairs, throwing an arm around his shoulder. "How's it hanging, needle nose?"

Percy, blushing, edged away from her. "Just fine--I guess." he said, not quite sure what she'd meant. "And you?"

"You two _know _each other?" Hermione asked, looking between them.

"Oh, yea, the Weasel and I go way back. Lost touch, but now we're reunited. I think I might cry." she winked at them heartily. It was obvious that she'd had a drink or two already and it was only noon. She had a beer in her right hand, which looked nearly empty.

"We've met briefly when Professor Dumbledore reawakened her." Percy explained. "Is mum about?" he asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

"No, she's out. And a good thing too. She'd have your nose for just showing up unannounced. How did you find this place anyway? I didn't think they invited _traitors_." Ron demanded.

"Ronald…" Percy began.

"No, look, you trashed Harry for years and now you're just expecting us to welcome you with open arms? Uh uh, no way." Ron crossed his arms.

"I am very sorry." Percy looked down at Harry. "I honestly thought that you were lying, Harry. The Minister…"

"Fudge was a bloody poof!" Ron exclaimed. "He wouldn't know his arse from his elbow!"

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "Let him explain." she looked over at Percy with a slightly less accusing eye. The only one who wasn't staring at him in some sort of accusation was Jack, who'd sat down at the bottom step to watch the fireworks. She sipped her beer and looked between them.

"I've spoken with Headmistress McGonagall and expressed my deepest regrets as to my mistakes of the past few years. She's allowed me to come and help you. Not that I will fight, I'm no good at that, but now you have eyes and ears in the Ministry…"

"After Fudge you're hardly anything in the Ministry. You were hardly anything in the Ministry when Fudge was about!" Ron accused.

"That's true, and I know that Kingsley Shacklebolt has been keeping an eye on things, but I bring a unique perspective to the table--"

"What idiocy?" Ron interrupted him.

"Ron." Harry said quietly. "Let him finish."

Percy looked down at the teenager. "I really am quite sorry for what happened." he said quietly. "Will you forgive me?" he held out a hand.

Harry looked down at it for a long time before making a decision and shaking it without a word. The implication was obvious: he believed him, but he didn't forgive him.

"Aw, warm family reunion." Jack said with a grin. "If I'd have known the room was going to be so icy I would've brought down my tequila and made marguerites."

"What's that?" Hermione asked, looking down at what Percy held in his hand.

"Oh, it's your school notices." Percy held them out. "Minerva gave them to me personally, as she is otherwise occupied and didn't want to draw attention to the Black house by sending owls to it." he explained. The three teenagers all took their envelopes silently. "Ah, very good then." Percy said awkwardly. "I'll be off then--tell mum I stopped by."

"I'll tell her." Ron replied quietly, turning and walking into the kitchen to read his supply list without saying goodbye. Harry nodded shortly at the older boy and followed his friend. Hermione walked up to him, smiling thinly. "I can see why you did what you did, and I understand the motivation. However, I don't think that it was worth turning on your family." she told him. "But for what it's worth--I forgive you." and she turned to follow Harry and Ron.

"That went smooth." Jack commented, looking up at the tall redhead. "At least they didn't jinx you silly. I would've."

"Yes, that's very reassuring." Percy commented off-handedly. "I was hoping you'd do me a favor." he looked down at her.

"Oh?" Jack raised her eyebrows. "For the last time, Weaslekins, I won't sleep with you." she said dramatically.

Percy turned pink again. "Oh, no, I didn't mean--"  
"I'm joking." Jack said, chuckling.

"Oh, yes, well." Percy shuffled his feet. "I've got--something for Fleur and Bill--since I couldn't make it to the wedding. I was hoping that you would give it to them the next time you saw them. I was going to leave it with my mother, but I don't trust Ron not to destroy it." he pulled a small, black lacquered box out of his pocket. "They're protection charms. I made them myself. I'm quite good with charms. I was hoping that I could give it to them in person but I had work and I couldn't get away--"

"You're lying." Jack took the box. "You didn't have work. You were too much of a coward to show up. Likely you knew most everyone was out now so you could show up almost completely unnoticed." she pulled open the box, looking at the two matching silver pendants sitting in the tissue paper. "Besides, you were there for part of it." she looked up at him sideways.

"What?" Percy asked, startled.

"You were wearing a black cloak, I saw you standing over on the far side of the clearing. You ducked before everyone went into circle mode to call the ancestors. I assume you were debating whether or not you wanted to be seen and decided against it. Good choice. While Bill would've appreciated you being there it would've caused a ruckus and it was his wedding day. They didn't need that." she slipped the box into her pocket.

Percy looked at her curiously. "You're really quite brighter then I thought you were." he told her frankly.

"I get that a lot." she replied with a grin. "Now scoot before everyone comes back. It's just me, Moody, Remus and the kiddies right now."

"Thank you." Percy nodded shortly. "I appreciate this."

"No problem." Jack shrugged.

Percy turned to leave, but paused. "You--looked--different. At the wedding." he said slowly, his face scarlet, not daring to look at her.

"Was that a compliment?" Jack asked, raising her eyebrows. "I think I might die of shock." She mimicked an American southern drawl.

Percy clenched his jaw. "No, never mind, forget it." and he ducked out the door.

Jack chuckled, walking back up the stairs.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Diagon Ally

The day was warm and sunny, the four had donned t-shirts and sunglasses to go to Diagon Ally, it was too warm for robes. "Alright boys and girls, please put your tray tables up and keep your arms and legs inside until the vehicle comes to a complete stop." Jack said with a grin, taking the lead and slinging an arm around a red-faced Ron. "Especially you." she narrowed an eye at him. "I've got my eye on you."

Harry rolled his eyes at Hermione, looking over at Ron, who'd been released, his face brilliant day-glo orange. "Bloody hell, if she keeps doing that I think I'm gonna have a heart-attack." he moaned, grasping his chest for effect.

Charley fell in pace beside his little brother. "Don't complain." he winked heartily. "If Nadia wasn't here." he shook his head, grinning.

"Where to first?" Hermione asked briskly, obviously trying to change the subject and sending a murderous look in Ron's direction. "How about books?"

"Florish & Blotts it is." Ginny piped up, heading in that direction.

"Shit, I haven't been here in _years_." Jack was saying, walking next to Remus who was smiling over at her. "There still that ice cream shop? You remember those Sundays? It was a wonder I wasn't 500 pounds."

A shadow fell across Remus' face. "No, Fortescue was taken." he replied quietly.

"Death Eaters?" Jack asked, her face stunned. "The hell did Fortescue have to do with them?" Remus shrugged. "I think they've just gone absolutely fucking crazy, the people they're taking." she looked up at Olivanders as they passed, shaking her head. "I remember Olivander, a bit Norman Bates, but all in all just a cute old guy."

Moody sighed, looking over at the abandoned building. "It's a shame. Great loss." he shook his head. "I think that Charley, Hagrid and I have it taken care of, why don't the two off you go explore. Things've changed a bit in the last twenty years."

"Shall we El Dorado it a bit, blaze our own trail?" Jack grinned, a gleam in her eye. "I'll bet that Lassco's is still here. Up for a tumbler?"

"It's only noon, Jack, I think that it's a bit early to get pissed." Remus chided, but gave in to her pleading.

"Alright, you three, if I hear you've gotten into any trouble I'll have your testes (and ovaries) for it." she called with a cheerful wave before throwing her arm around Remus, who immediately put his around her waist, and they walked off.

"If you ask me I think _she's _a little crazy." Harry said quietly, looking over at his friends. "Brilliant, but crazy."

"Just odd." Ginny said thoughtfully. "But I'll tell you this--if she's willing I'd _love _to learn some of her spells. Did you see that one where she decapitated that Death Eater?" She gushed, not having stopped since the fight at the Burrow. It was obvious that Ginny adored the new addition, which didn't surprise Hermione one bit. She knew how much her friend wanted to be the "bad ass" when she grew up. If you asked her it was because she grew up with so many brothers.

They made it to Florish & Blotts in no time, elbowing their way into the door. "Alright, who needs what?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Ron pulled out his list. "_Precise Potionmastery and How to Produce Perfection_." he grimaced. "Sounds like a blast. Charms, level 7, Transfiggeration 8, _How to Defend Against Magical Monsters and Tame Wild Beasts._" He rolled his eyes. "Hagrid always assigns the most ridiculous books. _Tame_wild beasts? How about how to kill them? _Magical Plants and You, _and last but not least, _The Black Book. _Wonder what that is?"

"It's the future book." Charley piped up. "It's a list of all possible career paths, what you need to do to qualify, and what kind of talent or personality-type you need to be successful."

"Does it work?" Ginny asked. "Tell you what you should do?"

"Well it's not designed to do that, is it?" Charley asked, tweaking his youngest sibling's nose, much to her displeasure. "It's meant to be a _guide_. Not even _magic _can tell you what you should do when you grow up."

"We_are _grown up." Hermione pointed out.

"Oh?" Charley looked at her scrutinizingly, she blushed pink, looking away. It was Ron's turn to roll his eyes. "So you know what you want to do when you graduate?"

"Well, I haven't quite decided. I'd like to work at Mungos, do research, but I'd also like to work in the Ministry, but being an Auror wouldn't be so bad…"

"See?" Charley said. "Don't think that you're all grown up. When you are, it just stops being any fun." he grinned. "Me, I plan on never growing up. What's the use of it? All you do is get grouchy and stop enjoying life." he shook his head.

They rounded up their books, paying for them, and exiting without any trouble. They moved on to get their new school robes and their other such supplies. Diagon Ally was a little eerie, oh it was busy with Hogwarts students picking up their supplies, but some of the businesses were closed and boarded up, and there were very few street vendors. There were also lots and lots of Wizard Wanted posters. Harry passed by three of Bellatrix's before he realized who it was. He pulled one down, taking it over to Ron. "Bloody hell." Ron whispered. "She's--beautiful."

"She used to be." Moody spoke up, surprising them. Of course he'd seen what they were looking at. "Used to call her the Black Widow, she used to seduce wizards into joining--and if they didn't, she'd kill them." He shook his head. "She had great potential, when she was in school, good future laid out, but something in her just--snapped. Some people say she was always mad. Me, I think it was just the power."

"You've met her?" Harry asked quietly, looking down into the dark eyes of the woman who'd killed his godfather.

"Once." Moody replied. "I helped in apprehending her the first time, putting her into Azkaban. I had to testify in front of the tribunal, she just stared at me." he shivered. "She had the deadest eyes I've ever seen. Like she had no soul. Like it'd been eaten. And in a way it had. She was the only one who followed You-Know-Who out of love, instead of fear."

"Love?" Harry asked, furrowing his brow. "What do you mean love?"

"You don't mean…" Ron trailed off meaningfully.

"There were some who said that her relationship with the Dark Lord wasn't quite what you'd call--platonic. 'Course those were just rumors. But she loved him, she did, with what she had in place of a heart. To the end, she never stopped proclaiming him. Even when she was locked away. Her love for him was so terrible that even the Dementors couldn't suck it away. I think that's what kept her alive for all those years."

"So you mean the Dementors didn't have an effect on her?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, they had an effect on her, alright, but sometimes I'd come and look in on her. She'd just be sitting there, staring at the wall--smiling. Most chilling thing you've seen." and he fell back to talk to Mrs. Weasley.

"Creepy." Ron shook his head. "To think someone could actually _love_someone like You-Know-Who."

"You have to remember how convincing he can be." Hermione spoke up. "He's brilliant, I think he could talk someone into nearly anything, if he really tried." she looked down at the picture, into those dead eyes. She wasn't screaming or straining to get free like the other people on the Wizard Wanted photographs, no, she was just staring out at them, smiling. "Throw that away." she walked off, Ron with her.

Harry looked at the picture for another second before folding it and shoving it into his pocket. He didn't know why, but he couldn't just throw it away. He didn't want to. He wanted to see her--the face of the woman who'd killed Sirius.

He caught up with his friends, a few yards away from the adults who were conversing in front of a bookshop. Ron and Hermione had stopped in front of Forticue's looking at the boarded up windows. "Hell," Ron sighed, "to think we were sitting there only last year. And how he's gone."

Harry's eye was attracted by something white. He looked over just in time to see someone in a white cloak, the hood pulled up, walking on the street parallel to the one they were on. The figure disappeared behind the row of shops. A moment later a second figure appeared, all dressed in black, hunched, footsteps deliberate, face hidden. Harry elbowed Ron in the ribs. "Did you see that?" he asked.

"Ow," Ron complained. "See what?"

"There was a person in white who was being followed by someone in a black cloak." he explained. "It looked like the white person had no idea they were being followed."

"Oy, you think it's a Death Eater?" Ron asked, hushed, wide eyes.

"In Diagon Alley, hardly." Hermione said, but the tension wasn't out of her voice completely. "They wouldn't dare--would they?"

"Why not?" Harry asked. "You see the kinds of people that come to Knockturn Alley, maybe they're just not afraid anymore."

"Well?" Ron asked.

"Well what?" Harry looked at his friend.

"Lets follow them!" he exclaimed, a gleam of adventure in his eye.

"They'd never let us." Hermione said, looking back at the adults. "Just tell them what you saw and--"

"And by then the person in white could be dead. Oh, come on Harry, they're not going to notice." And with no further ado Ron ran off down the street after the two people. Harry looked at Hermione who sighed and gestured for him to follow.

The three of them ran down the street after the two people, they finally caught up, hiding behind a building and peeking around to watch. The two people were talking now, the person in white, whose voice was feminine, was barely audible. "I'm not going to go." She said, her voice was deeply Russian. "I'm not your slave." The other person's voice was inaudible. "No! I vill not be ordered by you to do anything!" she exclaimed. "Now go away." The other person responded. "Are you going to force me?" the woman asked.

Ron elbowed Harry. "He's going to force her to do something!" he exclaimed. "We should go and help."

"For all we know he's her brother whose trying to get her to come home." Hermione pointed out.

"Then why would they be hiding under cloaks?" Ron pointed out.

"Take your hand off of me!" the woman's voice broke through their conversation. That was all that the trio needed, Hermione's qualms sated. They sprung from their hiding place. "Let her go!" Harry yelled, pulling his wand.

The two didn't even hear them, there was a loud crack and they both disappeared. "Damn it!" Ron exclaimed. "Who knows what happened? He could be killing her right now!"

"Just what do you think you three are doing?" Jack's voice came, she stood just behind them, her hands on her hips, her eyes dangerous.

"Oh, Ms. Avvor." Hermione exclaimed. "We just saw this person force this other woman to come with them against her will! We think that it was a Death Eater!"

"You saw a Death Eater, here, in Diagon Alley." Jack asked flatly.

"Yea, we're sure of it!" Ron piped up.

"And you chased it down all by yourselves without telling your escort of well-trained guard dogs." she said just as flatly. "Honestly, I get that you're seventeen and have a independence complex--but are you stupid?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "Jesus Christ, it's like dealing with children."

"What were we supposed to do?" Harry asked. "He could've killed her. He could still be killing her."

"And has it occurred to you that maybe you're just a little more important then some random bitch?" Jack asked, leaning down to look him directly in his eyes, all of the humor gone from her steely eyes. "That maybe it's _your _live that we can't fucking spare? That _maybe _it was a bloody trap and you're just too much of a bone-headed, over-assured little _boy_ to realize that _maybe _they're just a little smarter then you. Do you _really_think that Voldemort would risk sending Death Eaters to pick someone up in the most highly populated Wizarding spots in the whole of the fucking Island? And do you think it was just coincidence that they happened to walk right past you just long enough to lure you into a dark and unpopulated part of the Alley? How dumb do you think His Eminence is?" she cocked an eyebrow. "And how dumb do you feel right now." Harry stared at her defiantly, but he couldn't come up with a good enough response. "Move." She said coldly, turning and walking back towards the main street.

When the three of them reappeared Mrs. Weasley gave a cry, running and embracing them, and then swatting their heads. "Just where did you think you were going?" she asked.

"Sorry mum." Ron muttered.

"Sorry." Harry echoed his friend, ashamed. How dumb did he feel?

III

The school things had been gotten and they'd even stopped for food, now they were headed back out into the Muggle world. There happened to be a news stand by the side of the exit, the _Daily Prophet _caught Ron's attention. On the front of it was a large picture of Victor Krumm. "Hey, wait a tic." he pulled out a few knuts and handed them over to the clerk, picking up the paper. "What the hell?" he exclaimed after a moment.

"What?" Harry asked curiously.

Ron turned the headline towards Harry. It read: _A Disappointing Start. _And under it were_Victor Krum, not signing on for another season with the Bulgarian Vratsa Vultures._ "What?" Harry asked, snatching the newspaper out of his friend's hand. "They mean he's traded, right?" he scanned the first paragraph:

_For unknown reasons the most popular Seeker in the Quidditch League, Mr. Victor Krum, has not signed on for another season with the Vratsa Vultures, the Bulgarian National Team. When asked to comment, Mr. Victor Krum declined to make a statement. However, when only slight pressure was placed upon his team manager, Triston Klavov, he said that "He [Victor Krum has left the team for personal reasons. It has nothing at all to do with dissatisfaction with the team or it's owners, or me." _

"What the hell?" he looked up at his friend, open-mouthed. "Why would he quit? He was brilliant!" they both looked at Hermione.

"Well don't look at me, I haven't heard from him in months." she shrugged. She actually hadn't heard from Victor in about six months, she was starting to think that maybe he'd forgotten about her. Of course that wouldn't be so bad, not if Ron would open his eyes, but it still stung. She still had feelings for the overbearing Bulgarian.

"Well this just makes my day." Ron exclaimed, tossing the newspaper and heading through the exit.

Hermione picked it up, scanning its headlining stories, besides the one about Krum. They'd left for Diagon Alley before her copy had been delivered, so she hadn't seen it yet. There were the usual depressing stories about people gone missing or new Death Eater attacks, but something caught her attention at the bottom of the page. There, tucked at the bottom right, was a story entitled: _The Death of Innocence. _

Curious, she read on:

_Early this morning Mr. Arnie Wipple, residing in Little Hangleton, went out to fetch his morning newspaper only to find more then he bargained for. For there, in the field across from his home, was the body of a young boy, the Dark Mark still hanging in the sky above him. Terrified, he immediately contacted the Authorities who identified the body as belonging to a Hogwarts Student named Draco Malfoy, who had been identified by… _

But Hermione stopped reading, her eyes wide, body frozen, breath caught in her throat. She dropped the paper without even realizing it. "'Mione, what's wrong?" Ron turned around, looking at her curiously. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"The--the--the article at the bottom." she covered her mouth, unable to finish.

Harry picked up the paper, dusting it off and began to read, the adults had stopped and turned to listen: "Early this morning Mr. Arnie Wipple, residing in Little Hangleton, went out to fetch his morning newspaper only to find more then he bargained for. For there, in the field across from his home, was the body of a young boy, the Dark Mark still hanging in the sky above him. Terrified, he immediately contacted the Authorities, who identified the body as belonging to a Hogwarts Student named Draco Malfoy," Harry paused, looking up at the assembled group, stunned, but plunged on, "Draco Malfoy, who had been identified by Harry Potter (_the _Harry Potter) as being a Death Eater and a plotter in the death of Albus Dumbledore (June).

"Draco, only 17 at the time of his death, had been killed using the Crucio curse, the look of pain and terror still on his young, pale face. When we attempted to contact his father for a statement, we'd found him indisposed. It seems that his wife, Narcissa Malfoy, had expired only a few days earlier from a progressing illness.

"'Draco was a smart boy, very kind and generous, never an unkind word.' His fellow classmate, Pansy Parkenson described him as. 'He just got in over his head with the Death Eaters, and all. He never meant anything by it.' Parkinson, 17, was Draco Malfoy's girlfriend at the time of his death, and shortly after giving this statement fell into shock, and is currently residing at St. Mungos.

"While the reason for his death is still undetermined, speculation is rampant. There are those who say that he was killed by You-Know-Who for not having finished his task, although many claim that the boy was only another victim on a growing list belonging to the Ex-Potions-Master Severus Snape, whose kill list also includes Andrew Payton (Auror), Art Shavez (Auror), James Catton (Auror), Elmer Sparrow (Ministry Official), and most recently Headmaster Albus Dumbledore himself.

"Sources say that Draco Malfoy was last seen with Severus Snape as he fled Hogwarts after murdering Dumbledore. However, no one knows where either of them went after this, although it is assumed that they retuned to the Dark Lord…" Harry stopped. "Draco." he murmured. It wasn't that he was sad that Draco was dead, in fact, it held very little emotional resonance to him at all. But it meant something. They'd known Draco for six years, ever since they came to Hogwarts, and now he was dead.

Hermione held her hand to her mouth, her eyes were still shocked. "I can't believe it."

"He got what he deserved." Ron said darkly. "That's what happens when you fall in with Death Eaters. What did he expect?"

"No one expects to die, Ron." Remus spoke up. "Especially not when you're seventeen. And not even Draco Malfoy deserved what he got."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Past Faces

"Miss Granger, a word, please?" McGonagall surprised them. The three were sitting cross-legged in Harry and Ron's room, discussing the "heirs," they hadn't even heard the door open.

"Uh, sure Headmistress." Hermione looked at her two best friends and shrugged slightly to their looks of accusation. "I dunno." She whispered, standing up and following McGonagall out into the hallway.

"This way." McGonagall ushered her towards the old study at the end of the hall. She opened the door and let Hermione enter first before closing the door behind them. The new Headmistress sat down behind the ancient desk, clasping her hands in a very Dumbledore-esque way. "I have a favor to ask you, Miss Granger, and I trust that you can carry it out without having it interfere with your studies."

"Of course." Hermione replied. "What is it?"

"I need you to keep an eye on someone." McGonagall replied slowly. "She is an exchange student coming to stay with us this year. She is unused to manners because she comes from a very powerful family, and usually gets everything that she wants." she explained. "We hope that she will be able to adjust to her new school, but I don't trust her to be very--innocuous."

"Innocuous?" Hermione repeated.

"I'm going to be blunt with you, Miss Granger, Miss. Voshti is not a particularly pleasant young woman." she looked down at her hands, obviously not liking to speak ill of others openly. "I need you to try to explain to her our ways and the correct way to act."

"Yes, ma'am, but if you don't mind me asking--how bad is she?" Hermione asked.

McGonagall met Hermione's eyes, Hermione was surprised to find a shadow over the teacher's usually sharp, clear eyes. "She is two steps from royalty where she came from, Miss Granger. I fear that she won't even understand why she can't have what she wants."

"Yes ma'am. I'll try to help her." Hermione said, a feeling of dread down in the pit of her stomach. Two steps from royalty? The Muggle royalty was bad enough, she could only guess how bad wizarding royalty would be.

"Thank you. However, if this begins to interfere with your grades I will find some other way to restrain her. Please tell me if she becomes too much of a burden. She will have other assistance, but I don't think even he could help her."

"Who?" Hermione asked.

McGonagall waived her hand dismissively, obviously the conversation was over. "I would thank you not to tell your friends about this. They have enough to worry about. Thank you very much, you're excused." McGonagall picked up her pen and began to finish a half-written letter on her desk.

Hermione exited, chewing on her thumb. Who was this girl? And who was her other help? "Oy, 'Mione, what was that about?" Ron and Harry jogged up to her.

"Nothing important." Hermione replied uncertainly. Should she tell them anyway? McGonagall's voice had been very serious when she'd warned her not to tell them. Perhaps she had a point. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, come on, 'Mione, it could've been that vital or else she'd have told Harry too!" Ron exclaimed.

"Well then obviously it _isn't_that vital." Hermione snapped, walking back towards her room. "Now if you please I have some studying I've been meaning to do." and she disappeared behind the door.

"What's wrong with her?" Ron looked at Harry.

"Dunno." Harry replied, shrugging. "She'll tell us eventually."

"Yea, she never could keep a secret from us." Ron grinned. "I'll get it out of her."

"I'll bet you will." Harry mumbled.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Nothing. How about the Longbottoms? They've been in Gryffindor for a while. Maybe Neville's the heir."

"Neville, the heir of Gryffindor?" Ron snorted. "Hardly. What about Seamus?"

III

"Alright everyone, be good this year." Mrs. Weasley said tearfully as they stood on the platform of 9 ¾. "I don't want to hear from any of your teachers that you've been getting into trouble. And for heaven's sake--be _safe_. Don't run off and find trouble, you hear me?" she looked at the four of them with tears in her eyes. She was obviously terrified for them.

"Yes, mum." Ron replied with a sigh. "But it isn't like we go out and find trouble, it sort of finds _us_." he explained. "Sometimes I wonder about that…"

"Oh, Ronald." She pulled him into a tight hug, drawing Ginny in next to him. They were both crushed into their mother's bosom, which caused them to go bright pink. There were a few sniggers from the passing students, Seamus appeared out of the crowd, a big grin on his face, arms crossed, watching the spectacle silently. "Be careful now." she said, releasing them and pulling Harry and Hermione into short hugs as well. "Alright then, get on the train, don't want to be late, oh, Seamus, so good to see you again." She noticed him.

"It's good to be seen." Seamus replied. "I didn't mean to listen in…" Seamus had changed a bit over the summer, he must've been pushing 6'1'' now. His hair was a bit lighter, probably from the sun, and he looked in shape. His eyes had even lightened a bit, still as full of mischief as usual. All in all both Ginny and Hermione had to admit that he wasn't too bad.

"Oh, no worries dear. Now you be careful too, you understand?" before Seamus knew what was happening he was being hugged by the tearful older woman too. Sniffing she pushed him away. "You all just grow up so fast. Why, it was only yesterday that I was changing Ron's diapers…"

"Mum!" Ron exclaimed, mortified.

"Oh, listen to me, going on. Off with you then." she indicated the train, the bell was ringing for the final passengers.

The five teenagers gladly escaped Mrs. Weasley and got onto the train. "I'm gonna go find my friends." Ginny said vaguely, glancing at Harry before disappearing down the hallway without even saying goodbye.

Hermione sighed, looking from Ginny to Harry, who seemed blissfully ignorant to Ginny's plight. "One day, Harry, you need to open your eyes." she told him as they picked their way through the hall, looking for an empty cabin.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, looking over at her curiously.

"Well, isn't it obvious?" Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Ginny's still heartbroken over last year. You haven't so much as held a conversation with her all summer and now you're barely even looking at her. Honestly, I would think you of all people would realize how she felt."

"Oh, come on, 'Mione, don't be a bore." Ron exclaimed.

"A bore?" Hermione repeated. "You're just as bad as Harry."

"Trouble with the missus?" Seamus said, elbowing Ron in the ribs and grinning. Luckily Hermione didn't hear his comment.

"Oh, shove off." Ron grumbled.

"Come on, don't tell me you haven't--you know." Seamus wiggled his eyebrows provocatively.

"What? With Hermione?" Ron sputtered. "No! She's like my--she's like Ginny!"

"It's not like the two of you haven't been giving each other the eye since third year." Seamus pointed out. "It's just the--the natural order of things." she grinned. "_Very_natural."

"Oh, what, have you yet?" Ron asked, again, glancing at Hermione and finding her still unaware of the conversation.

"What? Yea, of course!" Seamus exclaimed, holding his head up.

"No way." Harry piped in. "Call, who was it?"

"You wouldn't know her." Seamus replied. "She--she's not in school anymore. She graduated."

"And I'll bet she lives in America too, right?" Ron rolled his eyes. "She was just here for the summer, no one knows her. No one saw her."

"She_does_live in America." Seamus replied. "Real good looking bird, too. Name was--Sara, yea. She was nineteen."

Harry snorted.

"Oh, here." Hermione spoke up, standing in front of the last cabin. It was unoccupied other then Remus, who sat on the far side with his head leaned against the glass. "Hello, can we join you?" She asked.

"Please." he indicated for them to enter. "Although, as I hear it, Mr. Finnigan is needed elsewhere." he smiled. "Congratulations."

"What? Congratulations what?" Ron asked, looking at his friend.

"Well it seems as though Dumbledore named the Head Boy and Girl before the end of last year, and Mr. Finnigan happened to be one of them." he smiled, shaking Seamus' hand.

"What? No _way_!" Hermione exclaimed. "You weren't even a Prefect! No way your grades were good enough! What was Dumbledore _thinking_?"

"Aw, you're just sore because you aren't Head Girl." Ron pointed out.

"That's because Dumbledore knew that I was needed elsewhere." Hermione pointed out, sniffing and holding up her head.

"Yea, well, best be getting off, then. Needed up front." Seamus grinned, the three noticed for the first time the silver pin on his robe with the letters HB on it. "See you later." he flashed a grin and set off.

Hermione chewed her lip, looking at the open door, obviously deep in thought. "Why do you think that Dumbledore would make him Head Boy then?" she asked, looking at her two friends and Remus.

"Dunno. It's not like he's exceptional or anything." Ron shrugged.

"Maybe Dumbledore just wanted someone who believed us, you know? That way if we've ever got to go and do something he can look in the other direction." Harry suggested.

"Maybe." Hermione murmured. "Do you know?" She looked over at Remus.

Remus shrugged, looking out the window. "I know that he changed the name last-minute. It was supposed to be a boy from Hufflepuff."

"And whose Head Girl?" Hermione asked.

"Padma Patil." Remus replied without looking at them.

"Oh, ug!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's Parvati's sister, right?"

"Where's Jack, anyhow?" Ron asked, sitting down opposite Remus. "The two of you have been attached for the entire summer. It's weird to see you without her." he grinned. "Although, I get it, _really_I do." he chuckled.

"It's nothing of the sort, Ron." Remus looked across at the redheaded boy. "She is like my sister. And she's on assignment right now."

"Ah, Order business." a voice came from the door.

"I'll bet it's something sexy." a similar voice replied.

"Yea, something that gets her into skintight leather and riding a motorcycle." Fred sighed dreamily.

"Or maybe she's undercover. Maybe she's at a strip joint populated by Death Eaters pretending to be one of the strippers." George suggested.

"Naw, too classy for that. She's probably the bartender." Fred pointed out.

"Right on that one." Fred slapped his brother's shoulder. "Mind if we join you?" they sat down next to Remus without waiting for a response. Hermione and Harry sat by Ron, looking at the two twins, confused. "Bet you're wondering why we're here."

"You're banned from Hogwarts." Hermione pointed out. "You turned part of the first floor corridor into a swamp. They still haven't gotten rid of that. I think that Professor Sprout is using it to breed mushrooms."

"Ah, yes, well, that was _so_two years ago." George replied.

"Yea, we're way beyond that whole 'swamp in the school' phase." Fred pointed out.

"So you mean that they're letting you finish your last year?" Harry asked. Having Fred and George going to classes with them wouldn't be bad at all.

"Go to class?" Fred asked. "Hardly. We're out of that phase too. Naw, we're _teaching_!" he exclaimed.

"_Teaching_?" Hermione exclaimed, shocked. "Teaching what, the art of Vomit Spells?"

"Well, we're not exactly _teaching_teaching." George explained. "We're—well, we're something."

"See, now this was really all Jack's doing, good girl that one."

"Gorgeous arse. No insult."

"Yea, gorgeous everything else too." Fred grinned.

"Anyway, so, she says that we need to be more on the Offense with the whole impeding Death Eater rampage of doom coming up. She was trying to get McGonagall to let her do more progressive Defense classes, but the old hag wouldn't hear anything of it."

"George." Remus said warningly.

"Sorry, the lovely old lady." George corrected himself. "Really more like a grandmother image. Apron strings and cookies and all."

"So anyway, McGonagall didn't want her to teach more dangerous magic…"

"That's stupid." Harry pointed out. "We _need_that dangerous magic. It's not like the Death Eaters are going to realize that we can't defend against what they're throwing and just cast a nicer spell." he shook his head. "We need to know the hard stuff."

"So_anyway_," George interrupted him. "She says that the board won't hear anything of it. But if Jack wanted to do it on a purely optional basis she wouldn't have a problem with it, as long as it was safe and the person running it was responsible." George sat back with a grin.

"So she called us." Fred finished, throwing his hands behind his head and sitting back with the same self-satisfied smug look on his face. "Real close she is with us. We're like this." he crossed his fingers.

"She wants _you_to teach us these dangerous spells?" Hermione repeated, dumbfounded.

"Well she'll be doing it with us." George explained.

"Yea, see, it was more like we heard what she was gonna do…"

"So we sort of called her and volunteered…"

"But she was really excited. Said she was just going to ask us." Fred said quickly. "So here we are." he looked over at Remus. "Think I've got a shot with her?"

"Forget him, think _I_got a shot with her?" George asked, pushing his brother aside.

Remus chuckled. "Maybe as a pair." he replied before he could stop himself. "I mean…"

Fred and George looked at him blankly. "Huh?" George asked.

"Don't worry about it." Remus sighed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

"So tell us about her." Ron sat forward, interested. "What was she like?"

"Jack?" Remus asked, looking at the three teenagers through nearly closed eyes. "A lot like she is now. She hasn't changed too much."

"So you mean she was always perfect." Fred asked.

Remus chuckled. "If you like the Amazonian type." he said. "Truth to be told she was a bit intimidating when she was younger. Always felt like she had to prove herself. I can't count the amount of times she had detention. It's a wonder that she wasn't kicked out of Hogwarts like she had been at Salem."

"She got kicked out of the Salem Academy?" Hermione asked, surprised. "And they let her come to Hogwarts? The way that I hear it Hogwarts is much more strict with their students then Salem is."

"Yea, it mystified even her. For some reason Dumbledore decided to allow her to come to school here." Remus shook his head, a misty smile on his face. "But it didn't really surprise me. She was an orphan, he always had a weakness for orphans." the smile faded a little.

Harry thought about how Dumbledore had made the special trip to see Tom Riddle in the orphanage all those years ago. "So both of her parents were dead?" he asked quietly.

Remus looked over at Harry. "Yes, although that isn't a subject that I have any liberty to talk about."

"Well what was she like when she got to Hogwarts?" George asked. "I'll bet she was brilliant."

"She was." Remus replied. "We had a Professor named Loupit, he was the Astronomy professor. Anyway, he was losing his hair and had used a charm to regrow it, only it wasn't a very good one, you could tell that he'd done it to himself. Jack always used to joke that it was a living creature and she wasn't sure if she should liberate it or beat it to death. She used to call him Professor Toupee instead of Loupit. One of the homework assignments was to plot the planetary locations that month and draw a star chart. She did it right, perfectly, to the T, I think it was the most she'd ever put into a homework assignment. Only, instead of drawing a representation of the sun she drew the back of Loupit's head, his bald spot shining. Needless to say she got an F on it." he chuckled. "She was fearless." he shook his head. "When she was younger her mother used to drag her out of bed when it rained at night to go dancing in it. They lived in California, so it didn't rain too much. When her mother died she kept doing it. She said it made her feel like her mother was still there. She used to sneak into the boy's dormitory and wake me up to go and dance with her. Of course this was in Scotland, so it rained all the time." he laughed. "I don't think I slept the entirety of my sixth year."

"Jack said that she--didn't like my father much." Harry spoke up. "Why?"

Remus looked over at Harry thoughtfully. "You have to understand that James was a very--self-assured boy. Some might say he was even a little vein. He was a good friend, loyal, smart, funny, but he was also _popular_. Jack always thought that he was a snob. But it was a rather biased opinion. She was--infatuated with one of the boys that James and Sirius used to torment."

"Who?" Harry asked.

Remus shook his head, leaning back. "Just a boy." he looked up at the ceiling. "There was another time, on November 25, it's an American holiday, anyway, she thought that it should be equally represented in the school, even though she was the only American student there. So, on November 24th she stole a turkey from Hogsmead, a live one, mind you, and gave it a growing potion, with the help of her friend. So, on the 25th the entire school was woken up by the frantic gobbles of a fifteen-foot turkey running through the halls. Everyone knew that it was her, even the teachers. Only--she'd left no evidence. She'd even made Polyjuice and had a friend of her's, Sara, sneak out and get caught to prove that she couldn't've been stealing the turkey and setting it lose at the same time. It drove the staff _crazy_. They tried for _months_to prove it was her, but she was too good." he laughed again. "God, those were good times."

"A giant turkey." Hermione repeated.

"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, laughing, wiping tears from the corner of his eye.

"Another time Quidditch was cancelled because of a hail storm." Remus began.

"She played Quidditch?" George asked.

"Oh, yea, she could've gone to the pros, but she wanted to be an Auror. She was a beater, there were recruiters showing up at the games all the time. She almost signed with the Salem Spirits but decided not to. Anyway, so Quidditch was cancelled, you have to understand, it'd been hailing for two weeks straight, the entire field was under fifteen inches of ice, we could barely open the doors to get outside. So, the night before the Quidditch match was supposed to happen she rallied the teams, they all snuck down to the Great Hall, moved the tables and set up posts. It was a rather small-scale field, but it was enough. So, as soon as all the other students started showing up they started playing. It took the Professors an hour before they could stop them. The teams were just too good. Of course everyone got detention, but it was worth it." he grinned in memory.

"So she was a beater, then." Fred grinned. "Maybe we could play, two against one." he elbowed his brother.

"She sounds great." Ron sighed. "Man, what I would've given to see her back that." he whistled, Hermione huffed and turned away, crossing her arms.

"Oh, I've got a picture." Remus pulled an old photograph out of his wallet, handing it over. There stood a sixteen year old Jack, she was wearing a pair of muggle jeans, cut off at mid calf, a pair of black army boots underneath. She wore a white t-shirt that was ripped at the bottom, a tight, white t-shirt ending just above her navel, across her chest was a picture of the Queen, her eyes blacked out, across it was written "God Save The Queen" in newspaper-cut-out style. Her pants were held up by a pair of rainbow suspenders and a spiked belt was around her waist, spiked cuffs around her wrists. Her hair was half buzzed on one side, the other side was short and spiky. She was flicking off the camera and sticking her tongue out.

"Bloody hell." Ron gasped, passing it down. "'Bit of a rebel, huh?"

"She grew up in a Muggle orphanage, it's why she makes all of the Muggle Pop references. Some of the kids in our day thought she was a little weird, most kids that grew up in the outside world dropped it once they came to Hogwarts, she seemed adamant on not forgetting her past. I think it's part of what made her so strong."

Ron looked over at Harry, who was staring at the door chewing on his thumb. Ron elbowed him. "What's up?" he asked.

"I'm waiting for Malfoy to come barging in and try something." Harry murmured.

"Yea, we _heard_about that." George said, leaning forward. "Can you imagine?"

"The last thing you see is that ugly flat-nosed git leering down at you." Fred sighed.

"Either that or Snape." George pointed out.

"Either way it isn't a pleasant sight."

"That's not funny." Hermione spoke up. "Malfoy wasn't a nice boy, we all know that newspaper article was a load of tosh, but it doesn't mean that we should make light of his death. Like it or not Malfoy wasn't one of the _bad_guys…."

"Wasn't one of the bad guys?" Ron repeated. "He tried to kill Dumbledore!"

"_Tried_being the operative word here, Ronald." Hermione pointed out. "But he couldn't, could he? He froze. And if he hadn't we never would've known that the real bad guy was under our noses all along." she sat back, looking out the window. "I can't believe we were so stupid."

"We all trusted Severus." Remus spoke up. "Some more then others. It's just in his nature, to betray. He's done it all his life."

"The greasy git." Ron growled.

There was a knock at the door as the Pastery Witch came by. "Anything from the trolly, dears? Ah, Professor Lupin, returning for another year, are we?" she asked kindly.

"Yes, ma'am." Remus replied, handing over some money and taking a cuppa.

Once the Witch was gone they all turned back to Remus. "You're_teaching_again?" Hermione exclaimed, excited. "Are you taking the Defense job again?"

"No, I will be assisting the Order in the protection of the school. It seems like my recent celebrity in the fight against Voldemort has afforded me that much, however I am expected to not be on school grounds during the week of the full moon."

"That's a load of--"

"I'm just glad to be allowed back." Remus cut him off sharply.

"So who _is_the Defense teacher?" Hermione asked. "Moody? Can you imagine? I think that'd be awful. His double was bad enough…"

"No, unfortunately Alaster has no interest in teaching." Remus replied evasively.

"Then who?" Harry asked, going through the possibilities in his head.

"You'll have to wait and see." Remus smiled.


End file.
